"You know, there's a haiku by Basho I love very much. Let me give it in Japanese . . . a haiku only sounds right in the original.
time ga ka ni
notto hi no deru
yama ji kana."
She paused to let the meaning sink in, to feel that open- ended sensation a good haiku always sends your imagination spinning off into. "How's this for the English?
With the scent of plums
on the mountain road—suddenly,
sunrise comes."
"Not bad." He glanced at the blossom in his hand. "I don't know why, but the camellia makes me think of you." He rotated it carefully, then looked back. "Let's dedicate tonight to our own sunrise."