As I cross my arms against the rush hour crush
And glancing down to today's pair of black flats
Before being packed in so tight I can no longer see them
I sigh
Buildings blur past in hazy city light
It's winter, and everyone is sniffling or sleeping
I am not invisible as I once hoped
But, no one assumes I'm a backpacker anymore
Small victory
I know the language now and
When to bow, and to what degree
Still I am outside, ever "other"
A yellow dot in a black sea
Gaijin
I made a place for myself here in this city's song
But my heartbeat cannot always keep up with the tempo
And though I've danced through days despite the challenges
Pauses like these come more frequently now
Unbidden
The train rolls into the next station
And I try to pull myself together before the next wave
But I am weak, longing for a sunset painted horizon
And the sweet smell of honeysuckle on the vine
Home
Edit: Gaijin is foreigner in Japanese, or more literally outsider