I never would have imagined there would be so much walking.
Who knew that backpacking
Through a different country
Would have its penalties.
Sweat dotted my brow
It could vanish with a single swipe
From a sleeve which only amplified the heat.
Frigid moisture hit my foot
My eyes fell.
Water crept into my shoe
As an empty can smiled back at me.
It sat in the murky puddle like a hot tub.
My legs bore the brunt of the burden,
Screaming as my foot squelched in my shoe,
Rocks settling into my footwear,
calling it home.
My mind became dazed
I lost my ability to focus.
This was cruel.
Who in their right mind said backpacking
Was a good idea?
Though, reaching the top I notice
The city surrounding us like water on an island:
Limestone and marble drowning in its beauty
My innumerable doubts leave my presence.
The city, though abhorrent up close,
Offered a view that would say otherwise.
The vicious light that pulled sweat from my face felt fresh,
Warm and welcoming.
This is the opposite of judging a book by it’s cover.