Too Much

The wind cracks dry leaves upon the unsuspecting pavement this hollow evening. I hear their haunting roar in the distance. Ghosts on the prowl. For the leaves were not given absolution. Their bodies roam and rustle until broken, unacknowledged and unblessed, except by jaded preachers like me who have utterly abandoned convention. Their pieces fly helter skelter, and their painful wails disturb my shallow sleep. I toss and turn, but their life stories persistently disturb my limp ears. I listen with resistance and forceful indifference. And I hear too much. And I learn...too much.