Striding, bounding past June’s leafy trees,
bouncing up the gravel path
the weather with me agrees:
a fitting semester’s aftermath.
But it’s not me bounding nor bouncing up the road
it’s my heart that does
this, the first day does bode
well for the rest of my voyage—fills me with a buzz!
Such euphoria I’ve alas almost forgotten
but coming back brings it back.
Like the softness of tumble-dried cotton
this trip’s soundtrack.