Though it may seem Spring’s taken hold,
Late Autumn’s in disguise,
Betrayed by flakes of falling gold,
All borne on gentle sighs.

Indifferent, now, the trees may seem,
Still wrapped in gold and red.
Stoic, untold winters seen,
Their wisdom left unsaid.

And though the darkness soon may reign
As faithless Sun retreats,
Stone-like sentinels remain,
Another year completes.

Seasons fly like autumn leaves,
And as my autumn calls,
Summer memories fill my heart,
As Spring peeps round the walls.

Stephen Tomkins
4 January 2023
Tokyo