The Future Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Quiet gold locks of butter fields
I walk on velvet praise
Your mind has portals
Groves of earnest tears
Do you peak at the fall sorrow
Blue birds have joined my secrets
Hope is a fragile wing

Parables like leaves of red skies
Beauty is free yet sublime
References are gone
We are on our own
Love is a master of disguise
Every forest has love
Today love touched me

Darling you are a hurt river
Flowing like a wound
I know because secrets fly
They gracefully land on trees
When ever we look back we cry
When ever we hold on we die
Will you visit my grave one time

The future isn't that easy