My legs grow weary
of this endless work
of days spent climbing
to nowhere

Exertion blurs into heat
so that I cannot tell
if I rise or descend
to a plateau

No, there is only the climb
the effort, the work
with a reward invisible
locked in a someday

My legs grow weary
and so I must rest
here in this somewhere
before me. ~ Caroline A. Slee


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