The shivering rattle,
Glass panes collide with the thin metal between.
For here we are, a quiet city, disturbed only by
The wind.
The memories of each Teacher woven into Tatami,
Experience laced between,
The path trodden by foreigner alike,
All with different looks but the same outsider skin.
Can we continue? Question we,
The lonely, language crowd,
Colliding with the palpable wall of culture,
That keeps us between paper doors.
The summer brings elation, the winter cold thought,
Though children’s’ smiles sustain,
Are they enough to keep sanity and professionalism
Entangled?
