The above landscape is a canvas of infinity. A place beyond reaching fingers or the roof of buildings. Curious eyes form a lifetime of dreams through telescopes. Changing seasons expose new borders and positions of the stars. They are constant. Forever appearing. Offering stability to faithful observers. A wealth of beauty can be passed on … More UP THERE
He dressed roughly, like a storm shaken tree. His corners were unbroken. A long step claimed his ground. Short salt flavored thoughts watered his words with meaning. Work was his passion. There was reason with his plans. Quality is the art he perfects. Concern speaks from his eyes. He rises before the sun, claiming each … More A FOREST WITHIN
Unrestricted. Stealing time. Unregistered waste. Failure to reject which way is the way to proceed. A fortune in words. Freedom is the release of the positives as they float past in a river of foolish hearts. It’s the in-between that belongs with the lost. Those who produce letters where the ink weeps from from … More HOW IT GROWS
It reminded me of a glass floor. Where the walk was careful and steps were applied lightly. There was a common passageway of knowledge. Absent of detours. A place where the brave refuse to rest, like unbroken thoughts of youth; deep breathes full of life’s long roads. Boundaries refrained from become reduced, yielding to the … More MOVING THROUGH
It was good to be back under a night sky where distant stars are without names and dreams appear with ease. Where faces lost in time are hidden behind gauze filled clouds while their voices rise from rivers I crossed in the past. Campfires send of curled leaflets of sparks, blanketing a black velvet … More LAST NIGHT
Industry. Merrimack River. Red brick factories. Wallpaper sweat. Stained hats. Greasy fingers. Oiled boots. Gloves soaked in time. Mixed aromas. Twelve hour shifts. Five minute breaks. Bag lunches. Overalls with snaps. Tattoos with faces. Eyes glasses smeared. Black acne spots. Machines crunching. Narrow walkways. Wooden floors. Noise upon noise. Laboring fans. Glass transoms. Metal chips. … More Lowell, Massachusetts, 1937
Beyond the next minute, prodigal thoughts recreate avenues of traveling words. All second hand messages are burned; ashes of vulnerability swept over the edges. Angry hands anxiously record the moment; nervous legs anticipate. The aroma of the story are spice trees for the reader. Words stand trial. Judgement opens quietly. The energy of success swells. … More A COVERED RELEASE
I have a legend with the road. A connection with dust from parking lots and narrow alleys. I know something about flat tires and vacant store fronts where change and loss hold onto empty. Faraway places never consider these places. A suffering evening sky labors at placing stars into night. Mountain shadows, appearing like sleeping … More ANOTHER PLACE
The sun clipped over the tops of quick moving clouds, creating a running shadow over me as it sped ahead searching for a finish line. I ran with the hope to catch it, when another caught me from behind. It’s a day without rain. Geese are heading north. Blossoms expand. I stand in a soup … More JUST AHEAD
A soft shoe slips the floor, pushing aside sawdust and broken promises; the cost of today releases the cash for night. Empty back pockets hold dreams without conviction. Black sunglasses shape the truth. Pearly white smiles spread a net; the hungry listen to anything, full stomachs walk by. Street vendors speak the truth. Its a … More THIS WAY
Roger Singer 