Toro Tokuda

The falling and crunchy leaves
Tell of another year that is passed,
A year too long, and too short,
For we always wish the warmth to last.

A bite in the air, at the edge of the wind,
That nips into our jumper just so,
Reminds me that comfort is fleeting,
And that that Old Man Winter comes to show.

Fret not, dear heart, 'tis not forever.
The spring shall come again past the chill.
We shall weather the cold together
In front of the hearth, close, and lovers still.