i trudge upstairs now
later and later, with less and less
enthusiasm
trapped in a COVID-19 hell
of our own making, the sweet smell
of burning wood blowing in from the west
we are in a climate hell
of our own making
Seven makes me move my body
in spite of it all
I'll have abs to show for it
In a year, I hope to bounce up
the stairs to do something cool,
to travel to far off places
to retire.
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