He was a life less used. A flower rejecting water. He considers himself a square, surrounded by a circle; room to stretch but never enough to change position. The drumming of his words sway like wheat heads driven by random winds as his words release, explaining the unnecessary. He drums his fingers on … More OPEN HARVEST
We are fleeting reflections in the stream of air rushing over us. We hear and feel the song of time; the metronome counting minutes, becoming years. We see our image, the branch of a greater tree; its roots mark a beginning of a not so distant past. There is a failing as we grow; … More MOVING FORWARD
The river has a voice, secured within the constant flow as it passes the factory. It remembers the first block set as the cornerstone. The steam from engines great and small. The windows and chimneys. The bricks and grease. ….and the men wearing overalls sweating over iron, the gold for cities rising into … More STILL THERE
The oversight of day. The thinkers living on caffeine. The poets and playwrights. The The oppressed and faithful. They all come to the Midnight Diner. A box car express rumbles by as cars with dents and paint scrubbed by desert winds breach the dirt parking lot, gliding over pot holes and crushed beer cans. … More WELCOME
IT’S COMING There’s a change developing without permission. It alters life and space. Oceans, sky, and rivers all submit to the oncoming of seasons. Summer is the briefest of children, Fading in the infancy of its beginning. Warm air and onshore breezes tease us between showers. Fall changes green into orange … More IT’S COMING
The route begins beyond the next corner; the guardian of travel, a watchtower circling before fires, creating a new path. Every village has desires dampened by lack of challenge; where breaths wait for courage to pass over new found eagerness. A few have conquered the fear, walking into new places, defeating chance, opening … More THE VILLAGE
STREET VIEW Indifference streaming. Decades of walls. Doors locked. Playgrounds hold the future. Dogs bark at shadows. Every fence leans with weak defense. Overgrown empty lots have no memory. Black suits and hats. Generations of braided hair and faithful prayers. Winsome songs slip to the background. Faces like flowers bloom with smiles. … More STREET VIEW
Roger Singer 