field notes.

day after almost-summer day,
i am left with an itch.
a yearning to stow away to a cabin somewhere.
anywhere.
and come july, that will be a reality.
but until then, foraging through this will suffice.
because i don't dare think about the real thing for too long.
the excitement gets the best of me each and every time.
isn't it incredible, though?
that something can actually be that good.
anytime now, summer.
anytime.