Dismal Autumn Skies on an Anglian Eve The sun disappeared and the world became Mute in the dull of a dismal evening. Above, the skies grew grey with Autumn's flame As clouds massed to celebrate our leaving. ...What have we left? Everything had fallen apart and we Were standing in the desolated streets, Alone in that pathetic fallacy Spitting rain which glorified our defeat. ...What have we left? The universe decayed and left embers Of our hope consumed by harvest fires; We died alone in that weak September Beneath the wreak of Autumn's ire.