Soft dusty light
gone sooner each day.
Orange and brown time.
Ripe gourds and melons piled high.
Red bell peppers
replacing the greens of summer.
Leaves on the walk.
Weaving freshmen bikes,
spaghetti to organize
for another year.
Backpacks full of books,
sleeping bags there
just a few days ago.
Cars from the hometown loaded
with a year's supply of clothes
to be returned home to launder.
Standing full of wonder,
glancing to see
the new room mate.
Then manic movement
to get moved in
and parents on the way home.
Football sounds, bands playing,
loudspeakers saying the obvious.
Sororities practicing for the rush,
fraternities planning a party.
Students with maps
trying to learn
their new home.
The pace speeds.
Fathers say goodbye
with orders
too harsh to be real.
Mothers weep
as they get into the unloaded cars
and head away.
The annual induction
of the intellectual virgins
has begun.
A few years and the child
will be recognized only
by full laundry bag.