Full Moon on the Quad


A school tradition since the
early 1900's when men outnumbered
women ten to one.  Initiation by
kisses : seniors to frosh in the 
quad on the night of the first 
full moon of the academic year.


 
That night, instead of surrounded by
masses, we stood alone on a tile 
design of a compass, arrows pointing 
in each direction of the world : near 
sandstone, fresco-painted Memorial  
Church.  Your leather jacket : large,  
sleeves bunched and dangling, covered  
my body, expressing your concern for my 
warmth.  We stood facing each other.  Your 
face, delineated by moonlight, masked 
you more white than your blood.  It was 
then, Diana saw you, full-faced as we 
kissed.  Did you intend to protect me by 
your stance?  As she readied her bow, I
grabbed you and said, "Let's switch, so 
we'll be shadows."  Our bodies locked and 
swirled like dancers.  As we kissed, I 
glanced at her beauty.  Diana unloosed her  
bolt, and I became the stag. 
                              You became the hound, 
full-blooded in your loyalty.  Sincere and
faithful : but to a fox-woman who had
crossed your trail.  She did so again, even 
as we galloped from moon-shadows to an open
glade, where we had planned a mid-winter's
celebration of unity.  Entraced, you heeled to
the echoes of that woman's cries, which sounded 
in Diana's name.  You sniffed her, as you would
any stranger, before chasing her into a grotto.  When 
you returned, dawn was filling the grasses.  It 
was then : you set upon me.  Snarling, in a gentle 
tumble, you bit and clawed until my delicate skin 
bled.  The earth absorbed the vigor of life.  I blended
into the rivers and the trees, became elusive.  You
howled an elegy, and trotted off.


Even to this day, the full moon 
shines on the inner quad, filled 
with seniors and frosh : uncertain 
of who might lie ahead.



--jennifer crystal chien