Day yielded unwillingly to a shower of gray sky where stars faintly blink for attention. We sat on a rock by the sea, its warmth reminded us of a cloudless August day. Receding emerald green waves wash over sand and shells releasing whispering sandpaper voices into the salt air we breathe. Our words … More ALWAYS MINE
Over the oceans uneven surface the oarsmen strain against ancient currents. Muscles ache with weight and drive. The waves seek dominance on the boats direction, altering the course, only to be set right with flesh and strength. A linen light mist layers on hats and shoulders. A gray leather sky broods above in silence. The … More MEN AND FATHOMS
A frontier of waves with form breasted my ankles with coolness borne from dark fathoms. Water and foam spread like dust on the shoreline where it flows blue and green over sand broken from ancient mountains. The aroma of tumbling water runs strong over me; a ripe fruit unchallenged. Threads of a blue heaven hold the … More CLEAN
Cannonades of sound spilled out announcing the coming and going of time the salt of thoughts watered with oceans persistent waves like gladiators of foaming armies spreading wide the release of tossing sand and rocks seeking a new level unasked for until lifted by or rolled out to calmer decorated ergs waiting to be tugged … More BACK AND FORTH
A blue carbon sky. The appearance of cold metal pressed between heaven and the dust of nameless souls. Ocean winds press the corners of waters, exciting foamy waves while washing glass thin over rocks and fallen branches. Long thin gray clouds, fingers without hands, stretch like spilled arrows pointing to no place; they fade without … More A FAIR DAY
It was the last days of warm sand. Afternoon shadows lay long and slender. The sun slipped away a little earlier and the clouds appeared thinner from where I stood. Season change is a transition of the soul, a sacrifice without choice; the end of one, the beginning of another. A rightly authority turns … More TRANSITION
A twist of air boldly pushes past August light; a song of different color; the end of summer. Night air signals the aroma of change. Cooler breezes mark time like a parade turning a corner. No wall of wishes prevents the rolling pattern weaving around me; I am a … More THE NOTHING ZONE
On the beach of my life I am young again, standing in the surf, resisting the authority of waves moving with the earth upon me. I am golden without shine, standing under tangerine skies, fearing nothing, commanding the day from my shoreline footstool. I am the history of myself. A legend to no one. A … More GOLDEN
Ocean waves dissolve on the shoreline. Diamond reflections spread cover rock and sand. The waves are creative voices, a language transported, respecting time, the land and mysteries untold. The voices are soft, welcoming and sincere. Often we listen but fail to hear the message, the answers the recipes of common sense.
Off from the valleys and streams water slips to thick rivers of motion under bridges past hillsides and towns born with history bowing to water rolling strong into ocean carpets blue with thin green diamond sparkled wave tops joining the greater amassed bodies on the earth wider than arms can … More MOVING WATER
Roger Singer 