The art of imperfection. A change of attitude and the limits not to exceed where temperature of mood fills the moment of decision; its high climate of change, though unnumbered but important. A formed shape begins with order. A voice, a glance, an answer without words. The simple of life is the meal … More FINDING SHAPE
I got a cloud over me, that’s probably over you where shadows join us as one. There’s a pardon in the shade, a fellowship bound like the roots below my feet. An offering of words, full of vegetation, planted in the garden between our ears. I remain strengthened that summer follows spring and vacations set … More SOFT WINDS
We are fitted into time. Rooted to the frame. The anchor of decision secures us to levels of choices. Voices filling rooms stir ideas that are uncharted and unimagined until turned over, exposing a plan. Lights with dusty gray eyes hold the path darkly lit. Adventure seizes the moment with unsolicited beckoning. Bravery held in … More THAT WAY
The in-between of dusk and night releases half shadows. Clouds hurry to corners. The last breeze twists a single sheet on a clothesline. A voice familiar to back doors slips into a cracked plaster hallway. Billboards advertise last year’s circus. Resilient pillars of weeds claim an abandoned lot. A dog with strong eyes challenges the … More CAREFUL STEPS
It’s the anxious part of me, working to find a home for my thoughts. Cataloging single words while they circulate like carousel horses waiting for the run to the barn; verses change the menu of how I speak. I avoid the company of well wishers, praising the moment, ignoring the spirit. They feast on … More MIGHTY STREAMS
The last train holds seats for strangers. Yesterday’s newspapers catch at the ankles of the sleep and possessed. The rhythm of steel wheels creaks loudly into the corners, alarming no one. Sinners pray for home. Saints sleep past their stop. Passing city lights reflect in a moment of blur, revealing sad eyes and lonely streets; … More TICKETS PLEASE
Street, flat out. Oversize shirts, yellow and striped. Coats without arms. A song in a walk; shoes envy the beat. Broad strokes of colored hair. A beard, a flash of checkered pants. Sandals and combat boots. A skateboard has lost its rider. Subways rattle. Steam pipes hiss. Rain coats under blue skies. Hats without rain … More SIXTH AVENUE
Water. An ancient sound. A motion, falling, moving, Colliding, turning. A color with aroma. Bending in search of a lower level. Respecting the language of gravity, yielding to its pull. Shorelines hold back aggressive waters. Mountains remain safe. Valleys fear the worst. Rivers build like armies from the smallest of streams, following paths … More TURNING THE CORNER
The clay of inspiration. Hands forming, breathing with chance; the unmaking of one into another. Words fall to the carpet, rolling into waiting ears where discerning and rejection fill the shadows; the song played backwards says nothing. There’s a blush of hate at the mouth of truth and a smile on the eyes of … More THROWING IT TOGETHER
On the Rue Lepic, a lazy cat sits on the ledge of an open window, observing life below, moving about after a night of swing and toasts to life and promises. Top buttoned shirts. Slippery felt hats. Shiny shoes and pants with flare, a man with a silver cane strolls like an owner past … More MORNING WALK
Roger Singer 