5, 10, 15, 20

Addition.
Two and three make five.
And five is even.
Technically,
it is odd.
But the clean way
fives fall into tens
is even
and nice.
Ten fives, make fifty.
Twenty fives, a hundred.
And that is a wonderfully round number.

8/22/2015
Riley Welch

Baby Blue

This is a strong disclaimer that I am not writing about today's gloomy Saturday in the below poem. 

I'm sure there is something I am forgetting,
but for today,
at least,
I have a strange
wash of contentment
I am not used to.
I'll visit those 4 corners
and probably find
nothing,
but
that is something
I am okay with.
At least for
this sunny
and blue
Saturday.

8/22/2015
Riley Welch

Keyhole

I peered through a keyhole
and your eye looked back at me.
The only thing reflected
in it.
Was my own eye
right back.
Together we were two mirrors facing each other.
And you refused to let me in.

10/12/2015
Riley Welch

Scribbled

I worry I will
forget how
to lay words out on
a page.

How sad to forget
the order we
became accustomed
to.

Do we repeat?
Repeat?
Repeat?

The brain grows old
and learns to
speak in a code
no one can decipher.

Short looping
and long phrasing
to remind someone
what they once knew so easy.

Goodbye is not always
permanent.

10/12/2015
Riley Welch

37

Long term memories
always feel like over cast, rainy nights.
Eyes on the brim -

Full of emotion,
you bottle up,
that's socially acceptable,
you know.

And sometimes, they spill
over.
Here's to release.
Some days it feels so lovely,
to forget.

10/4/2015
Riley Welch

OF

Voices
lightly sprinkled
the back patio
and I stood
with some wonder.

Did they see me?

I kept walking.

Foot, over foot, over foot.

That's how you propel yourself forward.

It wouldn't work otherwise,
you'd stay stationary,
so I've learned.

10/4/2015

Speculation.

If you read too much
you fall
into circles of narration
where your life becomes
one
big
bad
non-ficiton
essay.
And you think about
all the parallels
between
your past
and present
and you speculate
on the future 'if'.
You tell yourself
stories
about things you did when you were younger
and translate it over to your
current actions.
Someone
somewhere
would eat it up,
if you would just write it down.
You.
Unraveling every present
second.
Bit by bit.
Narrating the way you towel off
after a long shower
and wrap your wet hair
into a tight bun on your head.
And you think about that phase you went through
when you were young
in 3rd or 4th grade
where you didn't bath.
Well, not totally,
you took a shower every night
and turned the hot on high
and stood in the corners
so only the heat would touch you.
And that's when you started taking scalding showers.
Now your showers are cold,
because you need to be woken up.
Or at least feel like you do,
just want to stumble out of the shower
eyes wide
and ready.
But that's how your brain
churns
now.
Now everything is broken
down
into all these past
and present
and sometimes future words.
And that's what happens
when you read too much.

8/21/2015
Riley Welch