Carnegie Mellon University - Thistle Yearbook (Pittsburgh, PA)

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Fall We were the men of morning games. We met the sun's chariot With fresh fodder for his day's journey; A ll the lime Laughing like loonies at the setting moon. We played with the cool thighed Huntress In the wet grass; A nd with grass-stained knees We laughed at what the wind was whispering. Carelessly we gulped the dew. Giggling out as we rubbed our tummies, Hello worms! Hello bugs! Hello earth! . . . goodby old friends— (see you later) We were once the men of the zenith. We saw the maple tree Tickling the clouds With sweet sap slipping down the bark. Whimsically we wanted Venus To let us eat the maple sugar That lay on the crusty snow; And be smilingly-guiled. she consented! The syrup flowed over our tongues And left our lips sticky. Tasty it was. And quickly we made new friends: I love you. We shouted with outstreched hands-fmgers spread apart. I love you. (did they see our hooves?) I love you. Said the lovable zenith men. (and the little goat laughed to see such a farce, and the dish ran away to the moon.) We are the men of the moon. Our light, reflected. Dances on our graves, Totaling our message: Hello worms! Goodby world! (how many days hath September?) We watch, now. We watch With our pockets 'round our hands fe The lovers on the grasses And the lovers on the sands Of the beaches. A nd the reaches! And the screeches! And the touches . . . As the sun sinks away and our bloody moon sulks up. 10

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Freshmen