Metaphors

It is Autumn wrapping me up in it anxious colours
Rusting my lonesome being
In flowing days of July
And I wonder
How Absurd is this dichotomy?

The old lilacs are now withered
and the grass is no longer green
The nonchalant song and its eternal echoes have grown gray and cold
Like the familiar January's dream

But the words are unfamiliar
and the voices,like a stranger talking to me
It's an old indie film, or maybe a minute of it - the perplexing one
What are these clouds?Blue Sky
The metaphors no longer cover me!