I’m sharing air with sycamores today.
The weather is the treasure we have here.
Our cost of living sucks – we have to pay
exorbitantly for this atmosphere.
But look at it as drafts of oxygen,
as walking hyperbaric therapy:
exhaling fully to inhale again
amid the shade caress of greenery.

How many days? Three hundred sixty-five.
I get to breathe the air outside my door
each day. I’m situated here to thrive
on air, the breath of life. So I implore
my friends, for body health and attitude,
to spend some time where trees are making food.