What is the point

1) When we are done
The job may not be
But I’ll know we’re done
By how you look to me

When you lay down
Whatever tool you were using
When the message comes
To step back

The leaves are falling
So soon Damn
I am passing a leaf
How pretty it is

What unlikely colors
The rain brightens
You walk through the woods
Looking down

The leaves
Of beech and then maple
And then ash
Are like rooms of Versailles

2) If I remember your name
Let that be a sign
If I take my shoes off
Let that be a sign

If I roll the rug up
Let that be a sign
If I trip while I am signing
Let that be a sign

If I wake deaf
If I misread your words
If I disappear for a while
To write a letter

If I take the short cut
And it leads to a world
Where the post office
Is open 24 hours

If a tree falls
Let it be a sign
Let everything be a sign
Let this poem be a sign

Of how I have grown old
But can I be old
And still survive
All the things that made me age

3) They told me
There were doctors here
All I found were poets
And artists hard at work

And someone
Pointing to the garden
And someone
In the garden pointing

And there finally
Was a doctor
Sitting with the soil
Taking its pulse

The doctor says
This patient
Is dreaming looking down
Waiting for instructions

4) New job new tools
The pay is minimum
That we may live another day
Or another season

And then we’ll see
We’ll have to get good at
Reading omens
We’ll work from home

Piecework because
Reality is in pieces
It sounds cliché
But it’s my cliché

I’m quitting
I’m moving
Closer to the compost
Closer to Earth