OVERVIEW the moon commands highways of ocean currents forming waves those momentary curled masses of random strength splashing languages onto ancient shorelines from somewhere deep creating footprints during the highs and lows
black and white photos of my youth under a dominant sun with uncombed hair barefoot open shirts dirt roads to beaches bridges and paths to discover before porch lights snap on and bonfires send sparks to heavens floor
A stretch of clouds created for a brief moment a perfect opening a separation of white and gray a gift of silence revealing a distant blue ceiling mostly unnoticed as the clouds quietly reformed into a white flat unbroken carpet
the ocean is in eventide the pausing of waters before obeying the change ghosts of twilight hide within its stillness as a deep and distant rumbling stirs the edges of all horizons splintered clouds inspect the madness unfolding below where waters tempt the brave and foolish
It’s the perfect part the best of day innocence unafraid and promises of gold I hear words in the wind inviting clouds form as the earth spins beneath me memories never expected to melt away remain safe still full of breath
The desert a roar of silence bland colors crooked shapes life absent an innocent appearance tempting footsteps and greedy eyes to wander like dust random inspecting overturning a stone looking back or was it there it all looks the same no water no shade lost
She is an open field a spirit cloud of linen a breath between waiting the shades of trial and error a host of tumbling thoughts her prayers offered without answers hidden in rhymes and verse she falls into waiting arms like a fear captured
There’s no bottom to the city treeless empty lots broken stone trash and puddles where buildings were planned to reach the moon and stars sidewalk people swim upstream in both directions without order searching for a place sirens help or prevent subways rattle breathing heavy stoic faces anxious hands
Removing the coat of protection the curtain once important breaking away from the person within where the dust of youth is a repeating song while pushing out the voices of ghosts and shadows
Be the road long and unending with steps repeating like a drum releasing a beat while stepping through a curtain of promises to the other side where removing and separating is no longer blurred like underwater images we try to forget surfacing a little less broken
Roger Singer 