Littlefield

I biked 26 miles summer of 2016,
mostly to prove to myself I could.
I wanted to be strong.
I wasn't sore the next day, though,
I never did it again,
but it hasn't even been a year.
So, that doesn't mean I won't.
I think 100 miles will be my next.
I'll remember sunscreen this time.
I didn't even bring anything to fix my bike if it had broken.
How risky I let myself be.
I listened to billions of podcasts.
I think I'd do any audio book next time.
Maybe my legs would ache. And be sore.
Or, perhaps they wouldn't burn the soft pink they did the last ride.
I felt truly victorious.
Maybe even safe.
Like I did the most and best I could.
If I walked my legs turned to jelly.
Could I really do 100? We'll see.

6/1/2017
Riley Welch

Normalcy

I have a reoccurring fear
that
possibly
this isn't a great   .

This is just normal, but I have never known it before.

Though, I suppose I could feel like that about any random section of my life.


4/21/2017
Riley Welch

Overcast

There was a metaphor about a hand,
but I forgot it.
Clutching softly
maybe --
who has the time for all that, though.
I wanted hard words to spill from my fingertips,
the way they fell from my chattering teeth on nights when I had too much.
Or the way tears fell from my eyes on the last night of my college career,
when I realized I was growing up and out.

5/8/2017
Riley Welch

FYEO

For your eyes only,

Days with worry,
they slip out of my hands
the same way sand falls
and I'm not proud of that.

But, I do have some days,
when I stoop below them
and count each grain as it falls.

Which makes me feel less bad about the loss.

4/26/2017
Riley Welch

CLM 2

The sky was grey and I lost myself at a stoplight.
The car in front of me had mesmerizing brake lights.
I was glad the sky was the same color as me.
Until I peaked over the rim of my sunglasses, and realized it shone a bright blue,
and I had been deceived.
Left to wallow, knowing it was not like me.

4/26/2017
Riley Welch

Green

Been awake so long, 

but my brain never clicks off.

Only keeps going. 

4/21/2017

Riley Welch

Main Room

I let salt water hush me to sleep.
Although, actually,
it was just chlorine.
I slept in the same room a ghost made its home.
She tapped me on the shoulder
and told me it was morning while I sang her lullaby to babies.

5/27/2017
Riley Welch

This hiatus lasted longer than expected, but I was tired and the rest felt good. Without the pressure the write three poems a week, I found myself wanting to write more than I have in the past few months. Here's a short haiku, and Monday I will resume normal posting - one original poem on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. 


I guess I felt a bit lost
or maybe confused
but, oh, it feels much better.

8/1/2017
Riley Welch