-I went to Harvard-

I was accepted with some degree of hesitance

and a hefty amount of curiosity, but without debate.

No, not to make the grade, but to simply walk around the yard

in search of the hearts and minds of those holding academic

credentials and formal documents of enrollment.

Ahh! Look there!

Skipping down the granite steps of one of the great

university's libraries,–– the one where the rarest

known pigments in the world are housed, and attended to

like the ancient Chinese tenders of silkworms before the boiling,–– a young

woman is clutching a stack of books to her breast, and

ahh, yes! Her auburn hair lifts lightly in strands

of reddened earth-colors on the quick descent, –– graceful, tall,

5’9” or so, bundled in the cold March of Cambridge, passing into

and through the warm water vapor exhaled from her mouth, and look!

It dances behind her, spun by the backdraft,–– her young,

pliable brain infused with expansive information penned by others,–– 

and I know this because I went to Harvard, and there, in the knowledge

of my own experience with the passage of time, I instinctively murmured:

"And she, too, will grow old soon enough".