Challenging Poetry

Wednesday, midday

at the base of a hill,
the beginning of the hike
climbing up seems
the most difficult thing,
heavy pack pulling
my shoulders and
my shins feeling every step
as I wheeze my way

to the top, where I
stop, catch my breath,
finish a water bottle, and
half my trail mix before
I turn to head back down,

but somehow, as I work
against gravity, trying to pull me
too fast—into a tumble,
as my knees ache and my bones jar
with every step down,
the end of the journey
is just as difficult.
in another way.

Prompt: April 9—Hump of the week