The breath of summer slipped into September as if destined to die. Humid nights where fireflies attack the dark and ocean breezes lifted my hair, stay in August. A bonfire dances flames onto youthful tanned faces deeply absorbed with strength. Porch lights freely welcome homeless bugs while … More SEPTEMBER FIRST
There is a sleep murmur, a language of slumber, half words absent of full thoughts, verbal creations satisfying the ears while agreeing with suggestions; nodding of the head and smiling before slipping back to sleep. Dreams offer partial direction, indicating the chance to be or the place be all appears right, and above question. Night … More THE OTHER SIDE
Delinquent fingers march fence tops and window fronts. Crawling clouds fade my steps from gray and light. Knots of words race to the surface filling a quiet space. Days are pages folded over, holding secrets, revealing lies. The forever looks far and flat with so many … More TOO MANY BRIDGES
I saw a winking moon hide behind kingly pines where silence finds comfort in darkened leaning shadows and silver liquid beams slipped through thick boughs. Round and full faced that hanging around moon delivers light to forest paths guiding my way. Promising me a … More WINKING MOON
The eyes of the fighters speak with growling deep from black souls escaping to the surface. Sweat drips to a stained canvas. Blood soon releases from open wounds cut by leather. The crowd sounds a battle cry. as the bell rings. Adrenalin charges the feet to stand. Fists rise like cannons as the men circle, … More FISTS RAISED
Somewhere between the sleep of death and breath of life I linger within when my eyes like yours close for day and open for night in blackness deep where sounds are crushed into voices and faces twist into paintings of who I know or who I’ve seen when … More DRINKING SLEEP
Night chords drip a slow pace. Porches fill with moving voices. The ice in drinks mix with perfume and sweat. The bass man spills the passion while his hands create a sound blessing. He has a garden of jazz to release. Colors in the crowd move forward, bright with face, soft in … More INSPIRATION
I AM NEAR 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 … More I AM NEAR
A night song drifted past weeping mid-summer magnolias as it marks a pathways thru cool pockets of air to an opening where voices shadow whisper weaving end day stories to capture hearts. Midnight calls without alarm. Time has no respect. A crescent moon finds space between passing clouds. The field receives a carpet of silver. … More AN OPEN FIELD
He lifts the boxes without effort, small or large as if the same. His features are commonly obscure, a fighters face with a broad nose, three scars on the forehead and an ear blossoming. His skin is traveled. Working hands explode from the ends of his sleeves. He wears a baseball hat and duct tape … More THE WORKER
Roger Singer 