A samurai dog,
Small, white, posing,
Enjoying the attention,
Tourists snapping shots,
Calling kawai.
The postman passes by.
Crispy, burnt out leaves,
Hanging on in the cold,
Waiting out the snow,
Shielding the drop,
From the floating floor,
The postman darts through a shop door.
Pottery and green tea shops,
Ice-creams, sweets, biscuits,
Steaming bowls of macha,
Clerks calling in the tourists,
With tasters and a bright grin,
The postman revs his engine.
Kimono and small zori steps,
Bright silks and grey clad men,
Kyoto spread out below,
Grey snow clouds gathering,
Around the surrounding mountains,
The postman dodges a tourist and drives on in.
