bundled,estranged souls, streams of wool and cotton, buckles and brocades traversing streets and sidewalks, stepping to stairs, lined at doors, waiting at lights, journeys day and night to safety, to escape, to arrive, as the circle continues unafraid of reaching the end
his face, locked in the evidence of a traveled soul inner sufferings surfaced as disturbed currents threads from his past acted as an anchor, pulling him back from the edge of his unknown parts
for the wish tomorrow, softly released as day shelters behind night approaching, pushing curtains aside exposing warm spaces of patience and belief within a cloud body of words held tightly within the secret soul
satin breezes like angel wings glide over the soul of water a cloud of mist, rarefied air, drifts within classic circles of style creating a message within motion, a language spoken without words
surrounded by a skeleton of trees a shudder of wind reveals gravestones of buried souls scattered ashes and dust of heroes and villains tossed together into a gathering of memories where wings and whispers sleep along side of unpacked dreams
breathe, breathe, inhale the aroma the bitter barbed the gentle without wings breathe, breathe, the silence required the answers searched in empty pockets breathe, breathe, the anger consumed the choice not taken the basket half full breathe, breathe the choices once made the crossroads disturbed resting in dreams breathe, breathe out … More BREATHE
on the crowded sidewalk he felt his hands were lost day was slipping silently into a breezy evening the aroma of salt air filled the pocket of his senses city lights robbed the glory of stars making faint a crescent moon he mumbled a prayer like church candles soul dripping … More SALT AIR
subtracting the parts of day, the unfinished, early shadows, voices within, unanswered dreams, questions and morning coffee it’s a swim against the elephant no one talks about, hearts holding grief and half promises while speaking to the waiting arms of a soul who knows darkness comes first, and then the safety of night … More LATER THERE IS NIGHT
before counted time there was death where dreams cease like a broken branch nevermore to leaf the moon and stars care not the sun passes over the clouds and winds prevail while the spirit crosses a river or into a light those remaining shed tears washing out their souls remembering the last … More TO THE END
The books she loved and left behind for me were the beats of her heart scattered randomly between pages were small notes she wrote of love and hate a first kiss lost loves death and pain youth spent choices fire and sand trust tears traveling alone pictures postcards received a diner dreams aging gracefully … More BETWEEN THE PAGES
Roger Singer 