Alone, The field absorbs a tree centered In the middle of its earth where roots spread like children’s arms desperate for a parent as the waxing of leaves welcome an early sun during glacial changes of seasons until finally the waxing of last fruits and leaves yield to a first frost of life suffering the … More CIRCLING AROUND
A tortuous wind casts gray footsteps over a wide water. Tree tops shake green waxy leaves. A swirl of odorless breezes pushes like fast midnight feet. Fathoms of cool sand hold the shoreline intact. The slip of a curtain wags its tongue through an open window. Children create laughter out … More SATURDAY MORNING
Up ahead, mountains stand firm. The names once remembered pass with streets now foreign to me. Houses line tree covered lanes where dogs bark and kids point. Its my town, the buildings in know and shops I visited. They appear familiar but are shadowed with gray from my past, like seasons, they all blend into … More WHEAT FIELDS
TEN SECONDS A distant rumbling amplified the silence around me. My breathing roared within me. I whispered lightly, making sure I wasn’t deaf. I held my breath and then released it into ambient stillness. The clouds possess a cotton smoothness. The leaves appear asleep, unconcerned for impending winds and rain. I feel insignificant at the … More TEN SECONDS
At the end of the driveway, a sycamore stands. Grounded, pealing gray with white flesh underneath; a sentinel spreading branches over our coming and going. Its roots, deeper than the vision of my eyes and the life of my family. Its summer shade cools our heads, tanned arms and busy hands. Grand and stately, a … More DRIVEWAYS END
A blink of pain sets the course for the day, after a night of chasing dreams. Outside, the city is covered in a wardrobe of clouds; pearl white and dusk of gray. Below the sidewalk lifted up a degree of voices. Some loud, others a minnow of words slipping through. A small bucket of sunlight … More HARVESTING MOON
His cough rattled from deep within, rising to the surface like an echo in a cave. The land inside of him was tired. The fields of his strength lay fallowed. He is long from the days when a foolish youth wasted what was right, sacrificing his health to the weight of years lost. Today is … More THE FINAL YARDS
Years of herself filled up into her eyes; a flood of voices speaking her name. Over a back fence she sees a path leading away; looking hard with passion, the steps in her shoes hold the line. She points as if with a dieing hand to a hill, a place of memories holding tight to … More A NEED
Long whispers. Unachieved destinations. Serenity consumed. Overwhelming choices folded into one decision. Street people dancing. Resentful workers sidestepping random faces. Phones ring. Buses hiss to stops. The aroma of hot dogs and lunch. Silent faces. Worried thoughts. Fast steps. Escalators jammed. Subways overloaded. There is unity in motion. The desire to leave. The hope to … More WALKING TO WORK
Night formed a menace of quiet, an undercurrent of soft movement on familiar paths, where innocence relinquishes to the passion of shadows. A half moon catches out voices sighing, releasing fear under waves of waiting shorelines. Hands, graceful necks of swans, the appetite of silence, holds fast the embrace of desire, while creating … More HOLDING FAST
Roger Singer 