Notes About The Poem
Obsession Poetry Contest
5/2/2026
Sponsor: Seth Pina
The Trekker
It starts with a map spread across
the kitchen table,
fingertips tracing the jagged contour lines
like a language only the heart can translate.
Some call it a hobby,
but you know the truth by the weight on your back-
and the contents in your pack.
It is a holy burden,
a physical manifestation of a need
to be smaller than the world but larger then
your imagination.
There is a fever
Qin the rhythm of the ascent,
the way the lungs burn in synchronicity with the calves.
You aren't just walking;
you are consuming the distance,
swallowing the switchbacks
until the trailhead is a memory
and the valley floor is a map you’ve outgrown.
Your boots have memorized
the texture of granite and root,
the specific crunch of shale under a desperate heel.
They say "obsessed" like it’s a cage,
but here, in the thin air where the trees give up,
it feels more like an opening.
You hunt the summit not for the view,
but for the moment the internal noise finally stops-
when the only sound left is the wind
stripping away everything you thought you were
until you are nothing but breath,
moving upward unable to-
turn back.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
