Raking Leaves

I'm raking leaves at midnight
The bright, high moon is mine
The neighbors hear me raking, scraping
Cuz the houses are so close
The little girl next door thinks I'm a ghost
She cries "mama! What's that sound?"
Her mother throws her bathrobe on
Wipes away her tears
Her father's nodding by the stairs saying
"Don't worry baby, it's just the crazy lady."

I'm raking leaves at midnight
Only now it is one.
If it were up to me, I'd let them lay
Since I think this autumn ritual dumb, even cruel
I've thought that forever, since I was that little girl.
My mother yelling at the cops
My father, raking, scraping, not making any other sound
And I'm soaking wet, pounding on the naked ground
Crying for the creatures, the universes he'd disturbed
Under the detritus
Under that same bright moon.

I'm raking leaves at midnight
Only now it is two
Raking around the fire-pit
Where you dragged the big old branch and threw
The chairs around
I knew.
Since the moon was hanging out then, too.
You could've raked the yard before you left
You would've done it properly
Mussing the hair of the little girl
As she's walking home from school
Trimming round the edges with a loud and special tool.

I'm raking leaves at midnight.
Only now it is three
That old dependable glowing stone
Bright and clear as the autumn air
I leave a corner or two alone
The edges rough and wild
For the universes undisturbed
and for possibilities
Preserved.