Nestled behind a row of kingly pines a winking moon steps between branches where silence finds comfort in darkened angles and leaning shadows. Jagged lunar light crosses over paths. The wind is silent, adding to night’s strength. I am alighted in the direction of home. My boots press a hymn from the earth. … More I AM NEAR
It’s long and sleek, it’s my 47 black Mercury with satin fingers for tires and manicured white walls breaking through the barriers in every town and over state lines. Bold chrome teeth bite the air. No road is safe when exhaust dusts trees and tilted mailboxes. I got another ride in me, another road to … More CRUISING
He enjoyed getting the “did” “done”. The things on his list of do’s crossed off and “done”. Layers of lists folded neatly and stacked in the “did” pile near where he sat as he was pleased to be “done”. There was a “done” sign on his finished works and a “did” sign for those … More THE DID AND THE DONE
Pillows are the footnotes of thoughts, the bubbling of half truths and scattered sticks of wisdom, expressed without order in the night of a room. Pillows are the guardians of words drooled from the chasm of mouths and ejected from cerebral complexities. The warden of speech releases into night swimming dreams, the backlog of anxiety … More PILLOW TALK
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
It was a beginning sound, like an orchestra finding it start, each instrument achieving an evenness of created strength. So was it with the beginning of the storm. A confluence of parts formed overhead, lining up like soldiers on opposite sides, rising quickly to the challenge, breaking silence into a riotous charge. Pieces … More PIECES OF SKY
In the jam of the group one note sets the tone, created within smoky circles the sound complete, a tight message of music, fingers pulling the jazz, drums striking up a beat, brushing the day aside, as the horn digs deep, the sax pushes out a raspy scratch and the bass mellows into an undercurrent … More SIDEWAYS
There’s a merging of shadows around the backside of me, positioning to break out and pass to the front with quick steps and nervous breaths. Ships of night line up for the challenge of dreams. Topsails strain at the strength of speed while battling cold steel overcasts attempting to slow the progress forged in the … More COMMON SENSE
From the open door I pass daily on the Rue des Lombards lined with lilac bushes, I lean to the sound of a piano; I pause with curious ears. Athletic fingers prompt the song to spill unwrapped to me, circling like a scarf, holding my thoughts, catching me out of breath. The mouth … More RUE des LOMBARDS
A quiet horizon slowly absorbs a flat bronze evening sky, its edges melting into a dusky mist. There were no low rumbles or gusts of wind or clouds forming and reforming; a weighted silence pressed down onto a solemn ground. It was a moment of looking up, Wondering what would be next. Preparing … More NIGHT QUIET
Roger Singer 