the eyes shut from exhaustion, releasing spirits from the darkness to war within, flashing concussive images, angled blinding lights and drums beating in dramatic fashion, anguished rhythms of air from my lungs, far from the innocent shoreline of sleep I once knew
a gravel voice dirty hands fall and winter in his hair fire eyes looking for a curious glance as he points up signaling the end, suggesting everyone line up under stars and sun as arrows target the weights and measures unlocking the door within you
the café suspended strings of white lights, like stars pointing the way shadowed tables, people talking, whispering, listening, leaning inward for the words waiters in aprons angling between tables welcome aromas red cloth napkins, anxious expecting eyes waiting is the gift finally received
we fear the stranger fallen from grace shaken, unsure hair snarled like side yard vines a reminder of someone chasing you in dreams the eyes, hoping for a sympathy gaze for coins a cold meal, from a warm heart he knows he is out of place, searching for someplace else
trellised words, vined thoughts, labyrinths watering misshapen clay under the eyes of what was hidden invisible, releasing messages from years, unstoppable, like the warmth of a calendar welcoming summer during the search for me
it was at the edge of horizons where eyes welcome a steady line of waves touching the senses, dripping from clouds hiding in shadows evenings and nights and familiar songs the years are unstoppable, a collection words, drifting in breezes but not forgotten
an image within a song showing up before you arrive appearing bigger in the eyes of yourself and where you are on a front porch as a door opens like the words you push in the swing at days end and a front light forming a circle where dew and toys share space … More CLIMBING THE MOON
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
our car lights cut a shinning path over a dark surface as we pass below boughs of great trees I lean out the window watching leaves twist as we hurry past stars blink on a dark infinity sky warm air rushes through my hair, my eyes blink with excitement our street … More OUR DUSTY ROAD
the whereabouts of being unknown on a traveled road with curves and long straights walking a town, suspicious eyes whispers and turns brother can you spare, where the diner is? a meal like others, garnished with haste to the road outside that knows my name we are friends
Roger Singer 