Leaf litter

My leaves are falling off too.
I’m defoliating.
Not just losing the keys,
but the will to please.
Thankfully
its fallen away.

My pride’s gone,
the need to adorn
with silver and gold.
Things seemed to fold,
and drop,
till all I want today
is today,
to read but only
one or two leaves.

The world
lies at my feet,
déshabillé,
the future piling up,
the past complete.
I’ve detached the alarm
so there’s not much left.

The mirror on the vanity
reflects only the garden
where yellow leaves
fall
till the blue sky
empties
to nothing
but a wisp of cloud.