Desire and the I

A desire for one moment.
With the thoughts, centered on
the target board
                for an arrow of air.
A hit will be touched
           and not anchored in.
While a sun becomes a cloud.
As the desire
         swells again with the air
of summer. The target -
grows but the real desire is gone.
One shot and lost
All others, are the jokes.
Surely love is more.
******
Six notes
    attached to the I

Not much to hum
or even sing right.

Yet, the key
        of one memory

And the keyhole
has closed to solid.