words on stone as angels pass over where clouds hold tight the soul of belief as winds push back and then forward to the promise at the highest point where air is fresh like cool water filling your spaces washing onto your shoreline the best of all parts
to brave the change the unknown on a park bench feeding pigeons, eagles in another life while enjoying the green as leaves scratch in winds way boys throwing stones dogs on leashes with angry eyes walking on paths around ponds as day is completed much like yesterday and tomorrow
a full moon exposes the rugged skin of a meadow a storm dead tree paths grown over broken stone walls as the wind speaks a disturbed language punishing ghosts and beating gravestones on a night overshadowed by a black cat and broken mirror magic
The desert a roar of silence bland colors crooked shapes life absent an innocent appearance tempting footsteps and greedy eyes to wander like dust random inspecting overturning a stone looking back or was it there it all looks the same no water no shade lost
There are mountains to behold some soft others of granite messages hidden within the folds of clouds some open doors worth forgetting closed ones we forgot to open a watershed of voices replaced by empty chairs by those passing to the other side we celebrated their life favoring the moments while looking … More LOOKING INTO
Graveside flowers bless the unholy standing by looking down curious about the passage through the path yet taken by the living the name now on stone to live longer than the soul beneath the trees nearby watching over changing seasons absent of sympathy for this and others and memories of names on cards and voices … More LAST TIME
The last blessing the settling of forms the shadows over a life put in order truth hidden in stones deposited slowly into the heart rivers absent of motion become power lost thin paths test the feet of the brave at the end everyone witnesses the valley of their birth.
There is no unhappiness in a stonewall. Its industrial beauty shrugs with humility. Seasonal wars have no effect on its lines. There is nothing porous about it. The stones once buried within ancient soil are like diamonds and pearls, protecting the perimeter of its birthplace. Fortune blesses the license of its presence each day; a … More ANCIENT LINES
Dreams are fragrances, reminding us to remember the vision, the voice departed, the place of youth no longer visited; the person we were, but have changed. Regrets are long. Promises become minced oaths and lies hurt us the most. Attempts to make the right from the wrongs are absorbed each day; rumbling of … More CIRCLES
It was then, and then it was gone. Half buildings yielding to the Invasive force of massive trees. Walkways blending into gully’s formed by runoff. Embankments strewn with piles of dirt and broken bricks; nearby, an overhead walkway, collapsed to the ground, devoured by gravity. Telephone poles, weakened and leaning, surrounded by a century of … More ABSORBED
Roger Singer 