"Fall" - 8/28/16

I get the sense you're a very private person
I leave leaves on the ground that fall from fragile branches
Relics of what is or even omens of what's possible
You gather yours up quickly push them into paper bags
Surreptitiously they fall again and again in place, invisibly

Everyone presumes you keep your most precious secrets
In cupboards behind hoards of glistening antiques
So invaluable it would be madness to lock them up miserly
You can't possibly be showing us everything in this museum
Or is it an arboretum every time I catch a glimpse

Of your sideways smile as minimalistic as you appear to be
I hear a train whistling so loudly it's almost deafening a kettle
Boiling over so recklessly it shatters any temporary illusions
Regarding your subtlety a jacket you wear so proudly
Privacy protests prophesy I never knew how noisy trees could be