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Three Poems
by Roger SingerNeeding
Who knows
the pain I feel?
The black area like a hat
firmly planted.
Who sees the untied laces
and scribbled images
and tears raining onto
penciled figures and
barking dogs?
Where are the hands
to hold the pieces
falling from me?
Retrieving the shreds
from my onion
skin soul.
Windy newspapers
welcome my style,
applauding
the way I crumple
and lift with the slightest
breeze.
Where is the voice?
The one I shared with?
The comfort I so
desperately need.Roses
Trees thick with leaves
spring a fullness of waxy colors,
empting itself of wind
as dusk absorbs day.
Sparrows seek shelter in secret places;
quiet wings avoid dangerous threats.
An early night dew dusts a white
picket fence. The aroma of climbing roses
hides within pearl soft folds;
the marriage of sweetness.
Porch lights speak with distant stars.
wicker chairs wait for the appetite
of resting souls.
Night speaks with the chance
of being heard.Summer Waiting
My skin failed with cold.
Half naked trees rustle
scattered tenacious leaves;
a gap toothed reminder
of winter approaching.
Damp sand sends a
crawling shiver up from
my cautious feet.
A sea gull circles in silence.
Small crystal waves collapse
in frothy lines.
I am drawn to the salve
of the oceans pull.
The aroma fills the
hallways of my thoughts.
I am alone, looking,
feeling the pulse of
Blue-green depths.
I am summer waiting.