Lazy snake trains slumber overhead, listing hard into long rusty corners, rattling like bones in pain resembling old men walking to the park. Dark cafes list yesterday’s menus where hungry hands rain down with forks and sharp knives, scratching plates while lovers kiss and strangers stare. Sidewalks spotted … More YESTERDAYS MENU
I own the crossroads, the place of left and right, the straight and narrow, high crested curved roads and paths under rock gray clouds in valleys shared by yesterdays moon and breezes quick and cool with dust from boots traveling in circles and riding to lonely places and diners filled with searching and suspicions and … More CROSSROADS
A low moon, smiling full, casts silver blankets over my backyard. Darkness swells into corners where sounds dissolve into a flat silence. A lone shirt on a clothesline with arms walking, imitates a dancing life; breezes fill the yard like children playing. The window prints my nose cold. My bed refreshes me with its warmth. … More MOON SILVER
Spilling from an open window like morning tides creeping wet and slow into tidal basins, a horn from the second floor washes to the alley below between red chipped brick walls. Shadows form the coolness of notes, like stars falling under a black heaven pushing the beat of jazz as a man pulls the sound … More THE ALLEY BELOW
There are a number in hiding, an invisible color, like hedgerows, self-protecting, settling into quiet corners, pulling at their shadow, building on the strength of alone. They are the crowds of the unnoticed, claiming an unwanted seat where they feel secure. They are end tables of thought, conspiring with overthinking, finding comfort as the part … More QUIETLY ALONE
A flock of geese dripped winged shadows on the surface of my arms and face. A moment of cooling, a passing motion washes darkly through my hair, then slips past, continuing over bushes and onto sides of things the images from heaven spread long throughout the day.
The moon is a reflection in the eyes of night people. A silver casting from above draws over dark ground, forming gray shadows on the leeward side of standing objects. A flat moon face gazes into our small space where we huddle, looking up, wondering the distance and how to get back. … More REFLECTION
AT NIGHT Shadows intent on magic sway on plaster walls as dancing gray images surrender to kingdoms of jazz. Horns with finger tapping and pushing tempt valves to sing on streets of gold where Gabriel’s heart frowns jealous, of the cool hots below. The jazz continues with a rush … More AT NIGHT
An alley. The warm side. Red bricks mortared with sweat. Black pipes track to the roof. A radio bubbles the air. Sad songs like cold air drop into shadows. A window watcher. Second floor. Beneath the fire escape. Fingers prying apart white blinds. Viewing below; eyes deep set, hidden in a cave, protected, revealing nothing. … More WINDOW FINGERS
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
Roger Singer 