gusting wind greedily formed unsettled air, flexing its might around corners and curves, breeching walls attacking great and small, creating mayhem as a signature of unfathomable strength, unquestioned and free to disturb.
we stand under a moon gazing upward at its silver face from our earthly spinning diorama of cities and oceans where we silently gather, leaning on the uncertainty of our place, questioning without answer, the miracle suspended in a dark sky
a moon of madness disturbed the sky, half or crescent? the conversation volleyed between casual observers deciding . re-deciding the celestial message of night lights as they searched an overwhelming sky hoping someone could solve the question, provide an answer to the meaning of moon and life and why we must all eventually die
sleep, the back half of what was, leftovers from today, ghosts of the past stepping through an open door without resistance as the sand underneath changes to water, drowning your breath or pushing you from a rooftop sparing your impact, your death, until repeated another night
on the other side of time, the area between is crowded with shadows, broken promises and the right to be understood as changes occur like the flow of clouds, nameless, but important, almost enough to break into the blues like reliving the history of each year, after the first breath of morning as day passes … More ALMOST
the gray of shadow light bending, fragments of words like wrought iron angel wings kneeling within a drizzle of mist surrounding trees shed of leaves, desperate against seasons strength, fail to retain the youth of spring and summers shade the moon rises strong, casting a glance over night
breathe, breathe, inhale the aroma the bitter barbed the gentle without wings breathe, breathe, the silence required the answers searched in empty pockets breathe, breathe, the anger consumed the choice not taken the basket half full breathe, breathe the choices once made the crossroads disturbed resting in dreams breathe, breathe out … More BREATHE
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
the house was a fire of voices a child on the front porch sang a song about water and boats floor boards language inner travel from room to room burnt evening skies brushed the house with setting shadows as night breathes out a deep sigh of quiet
I see a remembrance shadow in most places catching my breath holding me hostage to the step, the sound familiar, unchanging from the before and the after, moving within the circle, smoothly rolling under stars and smiles from a moon as I walk into night quiet
Roger Singer 