A canvas moon paints a broad open field with silver dust. Fair opening breezes test tree tops and back porch chimes. The solitude is furious with quiet. Night fires, crackling lamps of light form great red embers breathing heavily under thin layers of gray ash. Moisture slips into the mouths of waiting roots; … More CANVAS MOON
The language of a lone whistle breaks into dark, as the train puffs like a worm on fire coursing through town, swirling and forcing its sound into corners like a mad overflowing river. Dogs take no notice. Shadows remain under bridges. Small fires burn, warming hands of the empty and lost. The earth rumbles, pulling … More NIGHT PASSAGE
It’s how we speak that tells a tale either filled with honor or full of despair. Words that spill from our mouths assist the weak the lonely or sick or can cut to the bone with anger and guilt. Words create the chance for change to begin your life by walking in faith. … More WORDS WE SPEAK
In him that thing voiced a noise, circling, surfacing, beating his insides until busting out with the jazz then rising, filling the air with his lightening, pushing brass into highs and making the lows cry tears of songs deep from wells where he sleeps, thinking strong with busy fingers, counting clouds in darkness as he … More THAT BRASSY THING
Morning went quiet like angel hands touching the depths of unreleased grief. Outward clouds receded, revealing an Egyptian blue sky. An envelope of breezes slipped with small notice over warm faces. Blond uncombed hairs twist like holiday flags under boughs of summer. Words opened with birthday surprise, fulfilling desires while holding dreams yet released. Sunday … More TAKE ME THERE
I feel the challenge filled with words causing my steps to change, a new course, an open road, the thirst for something more. I sense a fullness lacking that fails the void within an emptiness, a shallow soul, a person incomplete. Its then I hear my name from waters stirring deep pointing … More BRAND NEW
The edge of me rounds out, Running with jazz, pulling on paper words and twisting of hair in a crowd where sunglasses hide searching souls and feet eager for a place to call home like buttons spilled rolling and slapping round on a floor without mercy in a smoky room where last names don’t … More LETTING IT OUT
Late clouds sighed deeply under a the hands of a yellow sun, as day pressed forward to dusk, clearing the table for night and its curtains of dark to silently descend. Breezes dance without concern between arms of crooked branches. A silver moon opens on meadows, shedding release to paths now open. A … More QUIET FOLDS
We meet the road as paths curve away where bending knees seek a word and angels point us on our way. And then there are nights with fear and dread offering no chance for another day with dreams circling and doors wide open reminding us of our past. But the sun then rises with chance … More FORWARD
Late night breezes drift over cooling sidewalks, circling vendors with hands of profit and eyes labored with sleep. Paper lanterns, the skin of butterflies twist lazily, casting light fragments onto storefronts and strangers. Voices, parts of sentences and half words pass under weathered awnings; the air is thick like legs running underwater. Lime Street breathes … More LIME STREET
Roger Singer 