Cold is the rain
Creeping sighing wind
A burden of endless sorrow
—
Clouds of granite lend
Wings to distant thunder
Where memories find
Bronze tainted leaves
—
Swollen decaying land
Furnace glowing crimson
As lonely hearts bond
—
Misty opal encroaching haze
Burnt candles left to stand
Forgetting summers golden glow
Rust creeps into every mind
Life From A Park Bench 
You have painted a very sad and lonely portrait of autumn, Alan.