The Students

The students eat something and then watch the news,

a little, then go to sleep. When morning breaks in

they find they have not forgotten all: they recall

the speckle of words on certain pages of

the chapter assigned, a phrase of strange weight

from a chapter that was not assigned, and something

said almost flippantly by a classmate on the Green

which put much of the 18th century into perspective.

Noticing themselves at the sink they are aware

the hands they wash are the "same" hands

as in high school—though the face is different.

Arriving in the breakfast hall having hardly felt

the transit, they set down their trays on one table;

presently, glance at another corner of the space:

that was where we mostly sat two years ago,

that was where Gerry said what he said

about circles, the concept of, and Leonardo da Vinci.