he sits, sipping his tea on a porch before meadows and mountains familiar to his voice and supplications, under stars and bright sun, considering dreams, some real some reminders of a good life with songs brightly sung and poetry, the puzzle of words, that some plainly grasp, but for a few, the message remains deep … More CLEARLY
he crosses all seasons, jagged paths stitched to paper maps past meadows cleared by hands towns with forgotten names iron fence posts empty buildings exhausted like a defeated fighter one more corner and another, following after like a wheel off balance, desiring a warm cup of coffee to heal the wounds … More FOR JUST A MOMENT
the story within a song a passing face the sound of your name a closing door morning rain first falling leaves last summer day the other glove soft side of a hand a spring wreath an old letter favorite shoes the chance for again the sun absorbing rain the cat that came back a road … More PIECES
The world past the front porch, watching the same clouds set in the magic of the sky prayers lift up from swings and wicker chairs escaping through tired screens cars passing know only of roads, the next corner the direction home or close to it train whistles cross over buildings and empty … More SWING ON
Roger Singer 