Snow always seemed so right
capping the summit of Fujiyama,
not dulled by the windows
of the Shinkansen to Osaka.
You barely noticed the rice fields
fanning out from its base
wanted to reach out and touch it
for that is what you do with icons.
Mount Hood had the same effect
but the chill along the Willamette
urged you to retreat quickly back
to the wine bar for a Cabernet.