The release of loss Should be a temporary dark over; like a half smile, part with you, part at you. It’s when confessions drip from a repentant tongue, loosening squeaky thoughts, relieved to be free. The inside of healing words fight to the surface, struggling for new air; a chance for old shadows … More THIS DAY
Dust rose in menacing circles behind the car; generations of travel brushed to the roadside. Truck lights create lonely shadows. Bleary eyes crave coffee; the liquid toothpicks of temporary vision. Hitchhikers seek the ride of hope. Their boots worn down to sandals as they desire other places. Forgiveness is far from home. Familiar voices are … More DOWN AWAY
A long day’s end began with a defiant wind; subtle at first, steadily increasing. The wrath of its swirling lay embedded within layers of strength. The air was uncertain; pulled from its middle, expanding at the sides. The sun was painted out. Shutters rattled. Garbage lids became weapons. Birds sought refuge. Leaves scattered along with … More DETERMINED FORCE
I felt the water clock hold sentence over me. Dribbling out good, bad, indifference and sincerity. Its pendulum was silent, though refreshing me with reminders like a mirror reflecting the truth. Every experience has weight; the winning, losing, success and luck. We balance them until it tips. The result of results are unspoken for. … More END AROUND
He wore a dark herringbone wool shirt. Ivory buttons were the stepping stones holding his two halves together. Strength and honesty were the bare knuckles of his core. His eyes are the password for those to enter. Men wearing winter coats and hats shuffle forward. Downcast, they hold respect for their place. The food and … More LINE UP
A Cloud of mists. Vapors without faces. Cars make time over bridges, shuttling the masses in and out of order. Complaints rule within the swirl of thoughts. The tongue wags tirelessly for some until it turns black. The engine of day corrupts all who pass over the river. Seldom the sun shines everyday. We rely … More ITS A START
There was a breath of bad jazz. Dark curtains frosted over. The jams Of songs fled from the fingers to the valves on the horn. “Where comes the sound?” People nearby wondered. The air became frantic With cut notes. Fractured and scratched from the blood of soul and sand, where his life lay exposed … More OPEN WIND
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
Roger Singer 