Luka the cat, one eye and charcoal fur digests the aroma of his yard. His kingdom of flowers breathes heaven onto him; firm stalks own the hair of his passing. Angry birds of all sizes send notice to his sure footed velvet undisturbed sauntering; his strength reserved for fighting. Nights welcome his … More LUKA
Sing me up. Bring the jazz for the baptizing of souls, living strong, breathing cool fires from river running out of the Ohio snaking down mightily to Louisiana where the steps get wide and songs speak of folks left behind, walking river banks, looking south, humming the tunes I know, lifting my blood to Little … More LITTLE LIZA JANE
It was a day dedicated to high relief, with many paths, chosen and forced; like spiders fleeing heavy noises. Statues watched with granite eyes the song of traffic and voice passing beneath stone arms lined with pigeons, as the faces merge like many streams into one great river. Eyelashes wink at an edging … More THIS DAY
There is a breath between seasons. A gasp of release, the unwrapping of air stretching over, reaching out to the beyond. A passing absence fades into misty footsteps, where shadows meet, blending with voices in a breeze of change. Forcibly, like tides and the passage of rivers we accept the silence of what … More THE TIDES
He was a shirt with a covering resembling a man of awkwardness and self lacking, a foundering creature swimming upstream in rivers of passing faces darkened by clouds and shadows moving where uneasiness forces him to familiar corners where tight angled walls warm him finding favor with his quiet life without need for beyond where … More AN EMPTY SHIRT
She was a chance for good air the beginning of song released in the wings of her words bold with color strong with history on the stage where she worshipped the words opening black nights with subtle breezes like her travel to towns blurred with names and faces melting into closing as she moved on … More SUBTLE BREEZES
Curious eyes followed mornings rise. A canopy of clouds blocked the sun in the over the circle of tired spirits. Colds hands grasped dented tin cups, welcoming the aroma of coffee as fingers stretched around its warmth. A truck driver bounced to a stop. Burlap bags Tossed to the ground resembled shed skin … More BURLAP BAGS
I got that 56 Chevy painted black and yellow, like a bumble bee pressed into metal with tires stinging roads and fires in the engine spitting out flames. I cut the air into pieces, passing everyone sightseeing and slow. I got lucky fuzzed dice twirling in tight corners, fighting the gravity as that girl … More 56 CHEVY
A thieving light slipped through open curtains, laying quietly on the floor. Dawn rises out of gray canvas shadows. Silhouettes of outside enter the inside without a key. Slowly the time clock of a new day announces to the willing a call to arms; a message without alarm to invest with a challenge. … More LEFT BEHIND
The aftershock of the storm left a numbness of quiet. Leaves trembled from remnant breezes. Puddles reflect a sky willing to improve. Cool air refreshed the skin. What was brief, yet boisterous, recedes like smooth water at low tide. The anger within the clouds drifts to a new horizon; distant rumbling like cannons randomly … More THE STORM
Roger Singer 