A yellow porch light Dotted with The past lives of Insects Casts a weak Weathered haze Onto a green Screen door Where voices Whisper out Into the openness Of cool air. Inside lights Speak shadows onto Walls As plates retired From dinner Swim with silverware In the sink. A rocking chair Meters out … More WHISPERING VOICES
Over hanging branches with fingers of moss drool onto a brown fat lazy river. Mud soft edges sit rich with ooze, tempting to touch, warm with patience. A yellow roaring sun growls hungrily pressing green stems to wilt in prayer. The voice of flow rumbles deep, muscled strong while passing through. … More WIDE BROWN RIVER
The veil of youth is a door, or many doors where summer flourished all year in warmth. Games were fields of testing strength and speed, fight and spit. We possessed joints of steel and muscles with stretch; no mountain was too great. Arms were machines and legs springboards. The soul laughed at death and scorned … More YOUTH
The very first time I viewed the ocean, its blue arms pulled me with selfish compassion, forcing me into its waves like a present being unwrapped. Without loss I pressed back, capturing the waters around me. Like a friend, long lost, or a home distant, the ocean released a language for me to open … More UNTIL NOW
It’s a great river, pushing currents Grinding out paths where flow and tides Gain strength, rising then cresting back Working the heart, gaining speed Unable to stop, the clock its motion Simply fights in silence. Youth escapes from bronzed summer skin, Uncombed hair, footprints thought to last, Fade regardless of prayers, tears or anger. … More TIME
The leaves of his life float on streams created by a curious desire to be someplace else. Dust turns up behind footsteps soothing the travel born to him. Heavy doors swing shut on the pain of uncorrected loves and insincere handshakes. Clouds are his canopy of protection, a mist of heaven, covering what he has … More MISTS OF HEAVEN
Day yielded unwillingly to a shower of gray sky where stars faintly blink for attention. We sat on a rock by the sea, its warmth reminded us of a cloudless August day. Receding emerald green waves wash over sand and shells releasing whispering sandpaper voices into the salt air we breathe. Our words … More ALWAYS MINE
The image of youth fails to fade, regardless of years. Unquenched thirsts discover treasures from the sky. Legs like god’s conquer lands and oceans where beaches stretch into dreams. The tick of clock lies deep in young hearts but chimes loud in the breath of the aged.
The last hurrah. Hot dogs hamburgers lettuce and tomatoes. One more watermelon and a lobster sandwich. Sandy towels. Radios too loud. Crying kids. Chairs folded and stored away. Sun screen, hats and umbrellas pushed into a closet. Swimsuits to the bottom drawer. Restaurants to half staff. Beach balls released to the wind. Swimming songs lose … More COTTAGE END
It was the last days of warm sand. Afternoon shadows lay long and slender. The sun slipped away a little earlier and the clouds appeared thinner from where I stood. Season change is a transition of the soul, a sacrifice without choice; the end of one, the beginning of another. A rightly authority turns … More TRANSITION
Roger Singer 