Today, I met my senior English Class, and for an end-of-year treat we enjoyed homemade cake and tea. At their request, I also brought in my shamisen and played some folk music for them.

After I finished playing, one of the women said that a poem had just come to her:


With deft bachi strikes,
the young American plays

She wrote it down for me, and from now on I’ll keep it in my shamisen case.

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