The sudden transfer of stillness; the opening of morning. Flowers standby. Curtains hang around with anticipation. The air is pensive, waiting for change. There is a serious and relaxed atmosphere between what we are encouraged to do and that which is tried. Night is the salesperson for day. expressing support for sunrise as night … More RISING ABOVE
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
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
Labored wipers edge the smooth curved surface with vengeance as the final reach snaps a forceful wet slapping, shoving aside the enemy of night……water. Headlights course heavily through the drops as the beams stretch toward the next curve like a child reaching for candy. Creatures of night absorb the car, hovering over as if … More NIGHT DRIVE
A building torrent of storms forced a crazy going, pushing in and hammering out a day swollen with clouds and wind. A broken night rumbled like passing trains thundering through, heavy with rusted metal, beating a rhythm without equal. Lightening streaked, slamming the sky, sawing the air with bold power, blinding quickly and … More MOVING ON
The window releases a gasp of inside life, of half voices and doors closing. Delinquent sounds muddy the outside. A car radio lips out a samba, entertaining tapping fingers and flowered dresses swaying. Casual clouds, rugged images cast to the street, sliding into alleys, covering the homeless. Café tables stream with words … More RUGGED IMAGES
I can hear the water clock. The liquid metronome of a dripping faucet. A distinct sound muffled into silence during the day of sounds. On the ceiling, the passing reflections of headlights from passing cars below crawls over the cracked plaster. A blinking neon pulses across the street, matching the faucet drips and then … More BETWEEN THE DRIPS
A high lunar slice silver painted a sterile face unlikely warm soundless suspended solidly overhead where hinges in heaven slip it over nights curved sky speeding to a place over there where people point at shards of light reflecting on water hoods of cars windows the ancient stone the Mona Lisa moon half smiling. … More MONA LISA MOON
River drive. Radio talk. Dashboard lights, yellow signs, curves up ahead. Falling rocks, hidden drives. It was Saturday night. The clock says one. Been driving to clear the space in my head. Free my feet into go. Nothing to do but drive. No telephone poles. No lights. Houses dark with sleep. A few stray … More RED LIGHT
I got out the big car, the flashy one where your absorbed into the soul of your seat. We turn on the black roads with no names past road signs peppered with bullet holes and other signs pointing each way to towns and places somewhere to go. The moon plasters a gray canvas like … More THE BIG CAR
Roger Singer 