SNOW DANCE


The boy’s breath steams in the gray winter light as he runs toward Ogonzan hill.  His black school cap askew, uniform jacket flapping unbuttoned over a blue and white padded cotton kimono. 

Bare legs and feet flash as the clacks of his wooden clogs echo off the houses and walls along the narrow rainwet streets of Honura village. On either side of him, deep stone lined gutters gurgle with clear water rushing downhill.

Isamu comes to the forest and the secret fox trail that he and his friends had discovered. But this afternoon the bamboo groves look dark and spooky. In the cold still air he can hear water dripping like rain off the long thin leaves.

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