Waxed

[kolemath]

The changing leaves lie heavy
from all-day rain.
Each one hangs like a picture of itself, i like of itself; it adds a layer of meaning to the speaker, distance, incredulity..

not bumping into it's neighbor,
dancing, or baring it's underbelly
like yesterday. melancholy observation fits L3/S1 

Today, they pose glossy side up
[the side that looks like waxed supermarket produce],  on the fake in nature again
silvery with polished rain, as if expecting company. expecting company b/c of polished?

One drops to the ground, then another,
like daisy petals plucked
by the hand of some quiescent entity i don't like; you could use quiescence 
buried deep inside its own mind. burned confuses me with all the water; buried might be better, drowning, submerged, somthing like that?

how does the title fit the poem?

i like how the observations tell about the speaker without ever mentioning the speaker. thanks for posting!