We traveled to Japan last year, and I didn't recognize how lucky we were to see Mt. Fuji on a bright, beautiful day. Nor did I realize that it rained there as much as it did in England.
The Land of the Rising Sun
Mountains, rain and bullet trains sketch
the landscape of Japan.
In and out of tunnels - light, dark,
light - like taking turns at a game
of Blind Man's Bluff.
Mt. Fuji, capped in opals and pearls
for most of the year, shakes off winter,
emerges the color of cognac in summer.
The massif dominated as envisioned:
snow-crowned and silhouetted
against an abandoned cerulean sky.
I didn't recognize my good fortune
as moisture commonly veils the top.
A weather hint, if I'd paid attention:
the numerous parasols to use by every
merchant's door.
But the Japanese never insist. To impose
is impolite, and an umbrella remains
a suggestion even in downpours.
Marilyn Aschoff Mellor
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