night, a silent voice eyes fold satin smooth chances and memories walk across thoughts to the other side destiny and legacy hold the cards as impatience opens another door into a large room of what was lost with a small box of what was found
flames of messages hand prints speaking from the wall about a life walk down narrow alleys past back doors loves left behind storms and sun sleepless nights trials and errors while searching for a destiny above the scatter leaning toward the shape of how it is to be greater than the … More THREE LEAF CLOVER
THE PRICE WE PAY Anger and love broken shells parts scattered on life’s shoreline and deep waters hidden in clouds rolled out of storms under still waters suspended out of reach praying for balance understanding alone sometimes touching but not really touching the violence of gravity the weight of words unspoken destiny the … More THE PRICE WE PAY
The noise of previous shame arises without notice without explanation without a name it’s the bell that cannot be unrung the water that pushes us uphill it compresses the heart with uncertain destiny releasing to the surface the dog days of every season it takes great energy to suppress and smooth the … More WHY ME
An unseasonable difference the bouquet of destiny crowded within the magic of sleep the region between unknown footsteps unsure voices while the fullness of gravity prevents the ability for touch this unexplained element of drama remains bazaar where particles of words raise the curtain on another morning
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
Uneaten thoughts create unexplained spaces of emptiness. As day passes, a portion of destiny is added to a legacy unfinished. The elderly form short choppy sentences as they remember experiences their not sure actually happened. Windows are bedecked with the last holiday; a broken wreath minus a bow. A light shines from … More FROM THE APARTMENT
Thoughts are full of moles searching for words, expanding on stories where nothing is lost. Roots of destiny and legacy are the appetite of moles as they absorb the changes of character from open windows and behind doors. Memory requires extra strength to burrow through, releasing photos of faces and sins packed away. … More MOLES
Roger Singer 