Saturday, May 23rd, 2009...9:25 pm

roger singer | walls bow

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Lousiana Red 1978 | Photo: Mark Weber

A black wall. His fears standing
against him.
No breath blows the barrier down.
No shouts, push, pull hide the anger.

a
But when he sings….
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He sings the strength of trees falling,
owning the space where they lie.
His sound hammers the air,
framing rooms on the stage of
his mind.

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And when he owns the jazz….

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The jazz tears the colors separate.
Faces smile alike. Legs with dance
soul dip;
knees bend the travel of healing.

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Walls bow to the strength of
his songs.

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