Hanging Straps

Hanging Straps
Hisato Kawata

Neatly lined-up in front of me,
Hanging straps were swinging,
Back and forth gently,
As if dancing their modest dance
To the sound of the train
That was running slowly,
Threading leisurely
Through a mountainous region of the city,
My hometown, Kobe.
It was a quiet afternoon with light rain,
There weren’t many people in the car.
There the hanging straps were swinging,
The straps no one was using.