A seclusion moon splits between clouds, sheading onto flat fields, fence posts and tombstones. A feather soft wind song plays the leaves. Birds cease their inflight bickering. Stars reflect around the edges of sleeping lily pads. A prevailing mist covers everything like gauze, draping over stonewalls and stiff brush topped ferns. The echo of an … More COLD HANDS
I got the hope of summertime in my back pocket; a nickel worth of dreams next to a half-eaten candy bar. Fast cars and leather jackets. Long lines and chrome from clouds of mercury shimmer down the street. The waves of Monterey scrawl out on a wide sandy shore, whispering names under a … More TALKING TO SHADOWS
Nestled behind a row of kingly pines a winking moon steps between branches where silence finds comfort in darkened angles and leaning shadows. Jagged lunar light crosses over paths. The wind is silent, adding to night’s strength. I am alighted in the direction of home. My boots press a hymn from the earth. … More I AM NEAR
It’s long and sleek, it’s my 47 black Mercury with satin fingers for tires and manicured white walls breaking through the barriers in every town and over state lines. Bold chrome teeth bite the air. No road is safe when exhaust dusts trees and tilted mailboxes. I got another ride in me, another road to … More CRUISING
He enjoyed getting the “did” “done”. The things on his list of do’s crossed off and “done”. Layers of lists folded neatly and stacked in the “did” pile near where he sat as he was pleased to be “done”. There was a “done” sign on his finished works and a “did” sign for those … More THE DID AND THE DONE
It was a day dedicated to high relief, with many paths, chosen and forced; like spiders fleeing heavy noises. Statues watched with granite eyes the song of traffic and voice passing beneath stone arms lined with pigeons, as the faces merge like many streams into one great river. Eyelashes wink at an edging … More THIS DAY
From the open door I pass daily on the Rue des Lombards lined with lilac bushes, I lean to the sound of a piano; I pause with curious ears. Athletic fingers prompt the song to spill unwrapped to me, circling like a scarf, holding my thoughts, catching me out of breath. The mouth … More RUE des LOMBARDS
A quiet horizon slowly absorbs a flat bronze evening sky, its edges melting into a dusky mist. There were no low rumbles or gusts of wind or clouds forming and reforming; a weighted silence pressed down onto a solemn ground. It was a moment of looking up, Wondering what would be next. Preparing … More NIGHT QUIET
The pull of gravity provides a slow blink of reality and caution. Unfamiliar dreams of eyes with stars, kings of stone, and watch towers under gray slate skies create the beginning of desperate ambitions. Repentant knees drop with emotion, praying for pockets of hope and second chances.
Fair winds, the pause of between, ruffle the edges of canvas awnings. The sound of coarse linen being formed into small waves, resemble incoming tides onto shorelines celebrating morning. The day tumbles within minutes, creating hours of hope with the sense something good will happen. The manicured thoughts we cultivate, wait patiently for the map … More DOORS
Roger Singer 