Hair black as midnight,
Kimono sleeves whispering of plum;
Haiku she breathes to me
Beneath the yellow moon.

She says I need to see Tokyo,
And Kyoto in the rain.
I say, "I’ll go if you’re there—"
I’ll say anything.

She draws pictures of Mount Fuji
In charcoal, and puts them
All over the house,
Knowing I’ll see them

And remember the color of the mist,
And the smell of incense
Wh...

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