Returning Leaves Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

I am the burnished impressionist
Salon of changing light and shadow
We meet on streets of burgeoning values
Free stores, concerts, parks, flowers
Look at the stars like eternal pastel
Swarthy crinoline scarlet
Melting ceilings and walls
Heartbeats of angel skies
Buddhist dreams
Shaman grace
Poetry from the under current

I will live in the parley of change
She contacts me like a lamb
Art is the theater of silk
Relevant radiant innuendo
Sun turns into Vermeer candles
By the rivers the wind writes
Howling north winds
Cruel desire in deep red gowns
Black can be so elegant
Your canvass so violent
We merge with incandescent flight

Form in the bluebill mountains
Tactile yellow like a dance of pirates
Vase of daffodils smile
Cliffs of the ancient prayers
White waters in the cold spring
Cedar in the valley
Fields of mellow goldfinch
We always loved the summer meadow
Motions of the heart walk the path
Maybe we are just returning leaves