under a crescent moon strangers find company with me like and open window where caution is fleeting, long on chances short on faith and explanations failing we are performers with blurred experience, cold to the skin like wet gauze or a spotlight on a road searching for a comfortable end
words I know falling on me from clouds and infinity skies like blizzards of fire or moonlit letters of shadowed memories flowing down reminding, slipping within morning and evening buried in the breath under every sun and moon recalling the moments never to return
after the fire we are ashes, airborne, tumbling, gray flake shadows barley an image a winged spirit over the wall to the other side hiding in plane sight pounding out a direction to another place angry, but free accepting the thunder and the sun
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
each year a roadside meadow bordered by stonewalls breathes a harvest of wild flowers and weeds sharing soil and space rain and wind seasons of change providing evidence of a glorious gift
early stillness city awakening neon’s blink off apartment lights on a few cars and a cat warm street air pigeons pass overhead red brick walls slate steps alley doors aroma of bacon and coffee stagnate puddles grease and diesel fumes sun rising over rivers horizon stepping slowly from earths other side
all roads lead from me, long spaces for nights blessings and mornings light as new beginnings stir the senses into full blossomed roads, where no choice is wrong, full of miles, waysides and memories
a high sun spreading wide like fire within winds baking flat sand lizard tracks and parts of white animal bones the after life in the belly of a scavenger who is always searching for the unexpected or weak waiting impatiently, always hungry
darkness covers the linen of skin, folding over with day lost, the sky closes out the feel of sun warm breezes surrender to shadows replacing colors with a flat gray like layers of curtains, the first call of night leaning into stillness
Discovery of voice A print of oneself Black and white photos The shape of us Multiple shades and shadows Memory reflections Voices in the wall Reappearing seasons Reality to fiction Mirrors mark time Searching for the edge Discovering the unexpected One more length to go Prayers answered The other side
Roger Singer 