The Passing of a Season

This is not my normal style of poetry and I'm needing feedback on what can be improved upon. What would this type of poetry would this piece be labeled? The Passing of a Season October rain welcomes me at the end of my labor. Without malevolence the somber miasma drapes its damp aura upon me as tears for summers' dissolution. The old seasons' vitality, fading for weeks, spent its final, tepid gasp while I earned my daily keep indoors. Pall-bearing clouds now lead the funeral precession as they slowly move west to east, covering the land and I in their heavenly emotion. I feel the crisp baby breath of autumn whispering chills across my unsuspecting skin as I head to the security of my car. Millions of tiny fists of flesh clench and cower on my skin in response to the nippy newcomer, to which my mantle must adapt to. In the imminent weeks and months these temporally tame sensations will pale in comparison as the autumnal neophyte becomes the connoisseur, then cedes to the deeper echelons of winters' icy embrace. I reach the refuge of my car and seek consolation from the fallible condition, making the heater growl in bewilderment as I stir it from its seven month slumber. My yearning hands await and welcomes the warmth as it flows forth from vents that just yesterday expelled much cooler comforts. I cast my eyes toward the sullen sky, I say a prayer for the passing of that warm and loving old man. I will miss him.