Perspectives Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Summer ends like a child of streams
The field resonant with hope
Life in the western dream
Good times

Autumn brings my first deaths
Beautiful memories
Mortality like a revelation
Regrets

I see the field in the winter
Vacant but the sun is bright
The world is a heavy disgusting place
I survive

Spring in my old age
She tells me of dreams with flowers
She already knows the world hurts
She asks, Can you hear the cardinals?