A Moment with a Kyoto Geisha

While rain tapped on the window,

he meditated on the previous year

and the geisha woman.  

In a hanamachi in Kyoto,

he witnessed her.  

She danced in a way

that prompted a sinful nature,

things a geisha would never do in public.  

But her eyes

the way she glanced at him

sent shivers down his spine.  

Her graceful movements

were as elegant as falling leaves,

as delicate as cherry blossoms in spring.  

She wore asagao, kaneshon,

and ajisai on her kimono.

But in his reflections of her,

the kimono always fell off like rain.