Night shadows are the feast of awakenings. The outskirts of compassion, absent of spiritual thresholds. They are the counterparts without conversation; the willing partner in an imperfect sphere. They are unassuming. Their intension is directed, visually controlled, a bondage of motion; their gifts are weightless, failing to intrude. Style is choreographed without independence or expression. … More SHADOW LINE
A muddy river, thick with silt, half trees and trash, flows slowly past the city, slipping under bridges, competing with barges, rolling through like in dreams when you feel your running underwater. Docks and spits of land reach out at the passing debris; bulldogs inspecting their next meal. Stone legs from a train overpass push … More POUNDING WATER
The clock of many faces. Wrinkles stretched from time. Destiny swims in the eyes and legacies sweat from hard work. The silence of seconds push the hands into the next hour; no song can comfort the waste of circles within circles. Dawn and dusk feed on one another. Children are the second chance to find … More THIS WAY
Roger Singer 