This part of your house is designed only to let things out. However, it also lets in one very specific man.

A touch of me goes a long way, while too much makes for gags all day.

When leaves do fall and land in heaps, I gather them while the garden sleeps. With tines like fingers, I work the land, collecting nature's wool by hand.

For some I must come first, an unbroken token, Before any vows of the flesh can be spoken

I have a spine, yet I bear no bone, I wear a jacket, though my arms are unshown. You summon my name to secure your flight,Then consume my leaves by a fading light. A judge will hurl me at a thief in retreat, and when you are sprinting, you do me down the street.