A wet silver wind dusts green morning leaves as they yawn into mornings first breath. Great branches, wrinkled fingers stretch into an open window sky, free of borders or curtains. Fallow clouds, rows of twisted strings, the hair of sleeping angels on the floor of heaven, drift without sound to the next place. … More HEAVENS FLOOR
Soft music arrived in satin sound, like ribbons curled, drifting over blue waters where deep shadows move under the moon cast of silver light. Paper lanterns turn in warm breezes, striking slivers of light on circling dancers as the earth moves beneath. The rules of night open wide a dark carpet where voices … More DARK CARPETS
There was a brilliance of lights where streets were strung tight. A weaving of shadows and footsteps. Gifts of plenty and excited faces. The evening curtain of infinity space painted a dark background for stars beaming through ages of air. There is nothing fast with night. It covers with blankets the sins of day; the … More STEPPING OUT
A gauze of filtered light set the pattern of a checkered sun streaming across the table. An uneasy ghost of air plagued the room, circling quietly in an overhead fan then twisting to the floor where it slides into corners, stirring dust and yesterdays webs. A brief summer steals the warmth of August … More INFINITY SKY
Leaving fails with injustice, darkly sounding without color; a hand waves into smooth waters. The price of finding leaves no opening for escape. Long wishes match winters cold. Favor blesses the angels shedding tears. Shadows rich with song resume passions and promises. Ocean breezes are the appetite for great sails. Dreams speak … More PASSIONS HAND
It was a low tide. The aroma was of wet sand and seaweed. The rocks lay brazenly exposed, their sides speckled with barnacles. The water produced a ripple of waves; a motion of silence. A cellophane sky, yellow and pale white, spread thin over the horizon, appearing as a luxury of violence, like strangers … More FINGERPRINTS
The equatorial spin releases warm winds and trailing mists forming erratic clouds amassing into giants spreading over latitudes and longitudes blanketing cities and continents delivering rain and shade forming shadows until the high and thin, flat and long vanish into the air that gave it birth.
From the terrace, half abandoned daylight slowly disconnects itself, yielding to a gray-crimson shade until night paints dark. Small shadowed noises sound like giants wrestling. Bats curve the air. An owl holds court on a royal top branch. Working arms of winds stretch into branches, whistling a low shudder, pulsing the ground. The moon howls … More HALF COLD, HALF HOT
A centurion wind marched over tree tops with a fluster of noise, disturbing green leaves, pulling a few away, tumbling through branches, scattering them on the ground to early defeat. Sparrows rushed as if on fire, lifting and landing, searching for cover then up and out for another place. Wide streams of wind rushed flat … More COLD HANDS
A centurion wind marched over treetops, touching everything, then slipped away. Fathoms of gray clouds deepened the overhead. Valleys of ruminated mists shaped the sky with inanimate objects. A dull gauzy light stretched weakly onto the ground. A few birds flew hurriedly by. A screen door slammed shut. Yellow eyes of night crept in on … More ALL AROUND
Roger Singer 