Riley welch is a poet from texas living in colorado. She posts three original poems a week. 

Cold

I am still adjusting to the cold, and sometimes it reminds me of when I lived here before (and other thoughts that crossed 11 year old Riley's mind).

Sometimes
on cold walks from car to home
I let the cold get to me.

And by sometimes,
I begrudgingly mean most.

But on this certain walk home,
I remembered
when I was in 5th grade.
Taking a similarly cold walk,
from the building
to my mom's car
after theater practice.

And I felt cold,
very cold.

And in that moment,
I remembered
once
on a long road trip
across a few states
I listened to book after book on tape.

The benefit of these being that even when driving in the dark
you could continue to read.

And there was a character -
wounded.

And, in great pain,
he focused on
it's center.

And when he focused,
it didn't hurt.
Or at least,
he was not controlled by the pain.

So I tried to focus on the cold.
What was this feeling anyway?
How did it feel?
Where did I feel it?

And by centering on the cold,
I was really just trying
to block it out.

And for a split second.
I wasn't cold
or warm
or anything.

But it didn't work
as well as I thought.

And after a few minutes,
I gave up,
and ran up a tall, tall hill
to the warmth of my mother's car.


1/26/2015
Riley Welch

All-knowing

Another Monday