From the feather edge of thoughts, stewards like marching memories stand red brick building firm. I see the common space between here and there; a sliver of everything important. I sense the layers removed. There is persuasion when the untold surfaces of common spaces, rehabilitate gray skies into the summer of youth Breezes find … More I HEAR THE SOUND
The sound of hounds under the sycamores pulsed the air. A fog shadowed the ground, concealing weeds and rocks. A horn, a phantom sound suspended above, Slithered like a snake over tree tops. Fence posts boarded the field, like cardboard soldiers locking barbed wire arms. A brown light of dusk muddied the sky. Bats easily … More NIGHTLY STROLL
A wet silver wind dusts green morning leaves as they yawn into mornings first breath. Great branches, wrinkled fingers stretch into an open window sky, free of borders or curtains. Fallow clouds, rows of twisted strings, the hair of sleeping angels on the floor of heaven, drift without sound to the next place. … More HEAVENS FLOOR
A gauze of filtered light set the pattern of a checkered sun streaming across the table. An uneasy ghost of air plagued the room, circling quietly in an overhead fan then twisting to the floor where it slides into corners, stirring dust and yesterdays webs. A brief summer steals the warmth of August … More INFINITY SKY
There is a beautiful between sunset and the pulling arms of night. Where a whisper breaches the veils of soft light and willow branch lips release satin thoughts. Turquoise eyes swim in the wander of catching shadows while we stand under a failing gray sky, listening to quiet. A ballet of hands dance … More ONE VOICE
A thousand winds with hands descended from purple blue skies bending heads of slumbered wheat into waves of yellow oceans. The aroma of a distant heaven surrounds me, the vulnerable self, as the earth moves beneath me. I am a speck of sand, a feather lifted every morning as I first breathe in … More YELLOW WAVES
Shadow whispers boiled up in the place. Overtures of innocent violence stirred idle fingers. Unbroken sunshine dominated the blue of deep skies. A sediment of faces is a beach of tides. An undertow washes away colors of us, revealing old stains. The street, a hungry animal, searches to devourer, never … More MY FRIEND
Roger Singer 