WALK AWAY an audible moan of muted thunder crosses over the surface of this unknown road stirring the air and dust from fence posts and porches barbwire sky flashes send jagged pitch forks into the caldron of disturbed weather a warning to take the other side of this unknown road and walk away
weathering is an expression of time displayed, faded paint like aged skin a balding roof front porch chains minus a swing, a three legged chair an unhinged screen door windows without glass spider webs and vines weeds and the wild reclaiming what once was alive
we are the leaves of autumns fall clouds watch over us with breezes shredding softly the passing of summer its more than words on paper as the voice within steps aside the unfamiliar and familiar while time and gravity bend the shadows we are haunted by
darkness covers the linen of skin, folding over with day lost, the sky closes out the feel of sun warm breezes surrender to shadows replacing colors with a flat gray like layers of curtains, the first call of night leaning into stillness
A wedge or orange waits for morning fingers a black cat at the screen door; a pinch of salt over the shoulder same radio songs weather changes clouds always appear last patch of snow in the shaded corner of the shed a few buds up high on trees thrive where sunlight … More WINTER FADES
A low rumbling a quiet menace brooding on the horizon a language of sounds ominous clouds above the reach of man evil markings retire day’s shadows relinquishing serene space to a greater force heavy weather reflects in eyes gazing upward rain presses onto the souls of mortals.
It was a train in the sky. A thunderous ballad of unscripted percussions of warm and cold colliding; an influence without equal. The oncoming front sounded like a thousand warriors. running hard. Leaves turned over. Windows slammed shut. Animals sought shelter. A sequence of distant low frequency explosions pressed the air. There is no resolve … More FURIOUS
From a distant balcony I viewed the clouds crab by overhead. The winds resonated mixed sounds through boughs of great trees and then buffeted lightly against worn shutters and meadow grass. The sky darkened, I felt like an unknowing outsider, a Philistine, waiting for David. I recognized the approaching weather headline. I lingered as a … More FRONT LINE
Feed that dog. The restless wanderer going over fences and through backyard bushes. He’s full of fight. Has no enemies and barks from the hell within him. Kids stay clear. His owner moved to Louisiana, leaving him chained, which he chewed through. Full moons make him howl long and sad, frightening town bullies. An abandoned … More BAD DOG
Rectangles with souls. Windows lined like soldiers. Sounds in the head. Fog rises but never into a storm. Dogs walking as if they know where they’re going. Fast steps lead to a corner bar where No one’s ship comes in; liquid languages spoken here. Everything appears in slow motion. It’s easier to remember when … More CITY WALKING
Roger Singer 