spinning, parts of being together, captured grace defying gravity, bending with sound within the dance and beyond in steps and turns opening all sides to a place achieved of unspoken language transcending seasons with hope and the chance you’ll always be there
there’s a raising at the French quarter with crowds dancing and colliding like changing tide waters crossing streets drinking with passion while cable car singers and corner horn players beat a noise under a dreary humid mist as the sweating and smiling, celebrate for any reason without a holiday
gypsy notes a vagabond song refreshing, like spring rain, the fragrance rising from warm roads a moment alive sounds from angels a familiar language fluid and flowing a joyful expression breaking within the air circling like mighty winds striking solidly a message completed
he patiently waits at the café, looking for her and then watches her approach, he thinks… there you are my other glove the shoe that fits the door that welcomes a shoulder waiting the glass half full the moon over waves footsteps together a dance a few whispered words the voice the memories … More AFTER MANY YEARS
Its on the edge of the desert an open door welcomes the thirsty and the curious ashtrays full of last nights words and crushed hearts where leather jackets and quarters keep the juke box breathing passing freight trains push a melody to someplace where truckers kill time until the coffee turns … More ONE STAR DINER
She was dancing. Moving tidal hands out and back. Her neck swayed like a windy willow branch; sideways, over and around, she conquered all the air. Barefoot on October sidewalks. A royal scarf Isadora Duncan would have loved. Paisley red orange blue skirt. A bandana with beads tipped releasing Christmas noise. She smiled at everyone, … More HER SPACE
The tumblers of the day turned down locked out a yellow sun pushed up and out by hounds howling at a smiling round moon with a cheesy smile smiling into a crowd rightly smelling the jazz splashing fast over them like rain of summer warm with wet finding faces and staining forever their insides … More SPLASHING FAST
Roger Singer 