That lot always seemed to undulate round campus:
Never alone, always in groups,
As if they expected some kind of rumpus.
Admittedly there were some dangers,
But the caution in their faces
Grew more and more and ever stranger.
Moving about like sheep or swallows,
They eternally played follow-my-leader,
Within a protective bubble they wallowed.
Sometimes I worry about them now:
Can, will, each survive alone?
Or will they become social sacrificial cows?
Or undulate prettily in new groups,
New jet streams to flow in,
Still able to bloom and fruit?
Never alone, always in groups,
As if they expected some kind of rumpus.
Admittedly there were some dangers,
But the caution in their faces
Grew more and more and ever stranger.
Moving about like sheep or swallows,
They eternally played follow-my-leader,
Within a protective bubble they wallowed.
Sometimes I worry about them now:
Can, will, each survive alone?
Or will they become social sacrificial cows?
Or undulate prettily in new groups,
New jet streams to flow in,
Still able to bloom and fruit?
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