SHIRO a poem by Yuri Kageyama

The first death I knew was our family Akita,

Born the same time as me;

A runt my father got, his ears never perked up,

His nose piglet pink, not shiny black,

Like a proper Akita.

^___<

A ball of fluffy white,

Shiro, which means “white” in Japanese,

Grew up to be big and strong,

Although his nose stayed pink

And his ears floppy.

^___<

Chained by a big dog house,

He barked at approaching strangers

But never at our neighbor,

A typesetter at the Asahi,

Walking home quietly at dawn.

^___<

He never growled, snapped or bit,

Noble and calm,

Like a proper Akita;

I would ride on him

Like he was a horse.

^___<

People said he was poisoned by a man

Who didn’t like his barking;

He was taken away in a cart,

Or maybe it was a little truck;

Still, beneath a blanket of straw.