Gathering Leaves

Gathering myself together, weathering
the forecast in advance, stocking up
on provisions, preparing for the turbulent,
which is how the models align – a storm,
a hurricane, a breakdown, the atmosphere’s,
my own. And why not rake underneath
the noncommittal blue sky while I wait it out,
pretend the October day harbors
no knowledge of what’s to come?
That the leaves are destined to take flight
wildly in the unbridled wind is a foregone
conclusion, but the sweep of tines
on the grass, and the brown and orange
clusters I delicately arrange, calm my soul
both in the doing and done, the aftermath
notwithstanding. I’ve borne the fallout
many a time and shall again. More
than that, I’ve relished it. Do I expect
to come up short? When haven’t I,
and yet…I can picture those crinkly
arboreal organs settling in a scatter plot
after the event. I am re-invigorated
by autumn as much as anything
that doesn’t nag me to compromise
my values. Don’t ask why I need to be
restored. That’s digging too deep
and this is no place for confessions
or, at least, not for details. Just know
I am not immune to hopefulness.