First years
Children in adult clothes trying to find the what where how
Young runners
Stretching and checking each other out on the track
Grad students
Loose and lazy and looking worried talk over coffee or beer
New teachers
Laughing and smiling as they rush around saving the world
Old professors
Tired as they toddle to the next committee meeting or class
I have lived all these lives
And they are good
You may say university is useless
It is past its prime, out of step with the times
And in a sense it is
But there is a beauty there
Amid the poplars and green of the ground
The sour smelling cafeteria and gymnasium’s polished wood floor
The offices with their walls of hieroglyphic memos
And the sound of minds growing like green shoots
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