Who were you? Whom did you love, and when did you pose under the volcano, under the calming presence of Mt Fuji?
Is the twinkle there, in your eye, of a woman loved, and in love? It is, isn't it? Oh I hope you are, were.
You are beautiful. And when I look at Mt Fuji I think of you sometimes, wonder how you made your tea, how it tasted, how you held your chopsticks, and how you smiled, too. I hope you did. More than anything, I hope you did.
her eyes fluttered in the breeze
her taste was dark with the longing
of the sweetness of sour cherries