Moonlight has no enemies. It circles around the eye of the earth, showing us the favorite side, reserving its right to be specific without reason. Shadows never speak as they follow close behind, imitating without initiating, patiently waiting for the next sleight of hand or foot. The wind remains new. Inventing paths at … More AROUND THE SUN
One in the morning. I stretch, turning off the light. My book falls to the floor. Looking up, a cerulean mist hangs as my eyes adjust. A curtain of black soon covers the room. A diesel truck passes by below. A window shuts in anger. The night stand clock hums out of tune; an electric … More EARLY
There is a circle of growth, a watering of slumber, as the eyes retreat to the outlands of shadows where incoming messages open to hallways of sleep. We are captured in the snare of unknown vapors. Feet move. Hands reach. We respond with half words to voices at the backdoor of our thoughts. We twitch … More SOMEPLACE
A wave of voices claims pastures of air lifting up songs of worship and praise encouraging the downcast while healing broken hearts. The choir reaches into willing souls with keys shaped like notes turning locks and setting loose with words the breath of life.
There are no illusions when desires are missed. We struggle to maintain a steady path as the grays of life breathe in without restriction; the absence of answers is the darkness within a back pocket. We decide to move about with a new set of goals firmly attached to us, knowing that the next … More KEEP CLIMBING
I pointed to a full moon suggesting to my cat the enormity of silver so distant favored my yard. The cat yawned with indifference. Its tail providing a half swish, unimpressed with the depths of space or the light it doesn’t need. The fireplace snapped with heat, causing one of his ears to … More SILVER
The overhead rumbling of streetcars on the West Side Line has long passed, along with passengers wearing hats, workmen, excited children, women with shopping bags and lovers whispering. The city has entered an era of new changes while others fight for what was. Trees, weeds and scattered flowers keep company with abandoned tracks and switch … More WEST SIDE LINE
Highway papers scatter the road. Yesterday’s news pressed against the inside of a factory fence. The sky is rose red. The air is moist. There are no songs but the wind gusts a tune. The clouds resemble casual caring hands, resting like sleep while building silently into towers over a landscape full and willing. … More REPLENISH
There appeared a garment of haze. The confirmation of heat and long days. Café umbrellas wept over their canvas sides, softened by a dispassionate sun. No appreciable change was predicted. The curtained weather hung limply. A silken confection of clouds blossomed into mountains. Bulbous and churning they rose in silent eruption … More SILENT ERUPTION
A meadow of stars shined brightly into forevermore where a a small portion of night was pushed aside into a cold place before darkness reclaimed the sky. I start to count the rubies and diamonds above, surrendering my numbers to the dots pasted onto infinity canvas. The lights of a great city offers … More HIGHWAY SKY
Roger Singer 