She is an open field a spirit cloud of linen a breath between waiting the shades of trial and error a host of tumbling thoughts her prayers offered without answers hidden in rhymes and verse she falls into waiting arms like a fear captured
The moon a legend in the sky a face to talk to a light to cry under a beacon for our paths alongside rivers shorelines and late night sidewalks we observe from here at the basement of gravity a beauty that haunts us.
There’s no bottom to the city treeless empty lots broken stone trash and puddles where buildings were planned to reach the moon and stars sidewalk people swim upstream in both directions without order searching for a place sirens help or prevent subways rattle breathing heavy stoic faces anxious hands
Removing the coat of protection the curtain once important breaking away from the person within where the dust of youth is a repeating song while pushing out the voices of ghosts and shadows
Be the road long and unending with steps repeating like a drum releasing a beat while stepping through a curtain of promises to the other side where removing and separating is no longer blurred like underwater images we try to forget surfacing a little less broken
There’s rain in the desert where lizards and one eyed dogs live on the wrong side of the tracks and bars with tired neon’s blink onto cactus and sand where nothing comes alive except lightening and dry winds as we try for the right way leaving behind what tries to hold us back in the … More TRYING TO GET OUT
I lit a candle for comfort its light overtakes the immediate darkness dispelling ghosts and phantoms long shadows drip from the table the flame dances with song walls and corners fail at hiding from the single brightness the light so small believes in its power to protect and expose
eventide appeared its calmness balanced between back and forth waiting for a command a higher power stars and moon and maybe the sun to exact the perfect template a framework of directions unspoken unrehearsed a play performed on the world stage unimpeded mostly unnoticed until it begins to move as it always … More JUST BY CHANCE
The books she loved and left behind for me were the beats of her heart scattered randomly between pages were small notes she wrote of love and hate a first kiss lost loves death and pain youth spent choices fire and sand trust tears traveling alone pictures postcards received a diner dreams aging gracefully … More BETWEEN THE PAGES
Every evening he gazed up at evening stars whispering words he collected or a poem or song he was fond of watching the mist of his breath layer gently into cool air and even if clouds blocked his view he continued to speak knowing the stars were still there
Roger Singer 