3 poems

by Kelli Weldon

voyage

boat engine turning over

gulls in the wind

a song I have never heard.

Adventure beckons

the cold, dark thrill

the deep

wonders

seize the current, surprise my anchor.

“yes,” I am whispering before I can stop myself

“yes” to the storm that is brewing.

how to fall

slope alongside Sam Houston state park trails

dry Louisiana oak leaves crunch under age 8 weight

quiet cacophony as her little body rolls

quickly

down

then steadies

sun through the trees

a lightweight Sisyphus emerging.

that’s the right way to fall,

arms crossed over your heart to guard it.

just like it is, even now

when the ground gives out underneath

and you oblige

you have to hold on to yourself.

elevator

our time arrives

days stretch out within this minute

a raindrop suspended, teeming with microbes.

gravity tugs your heels to Earth,

you straighten your spine

cables and counterweights abide

a nod of recognition.

my stomach sinks, the eerie knot subsides.

maybe you knew me in another life.

down and down

and straight ahead

be careful

this is all we get.

Kelli Weldon was born and raised in Louisiana and now resides in Texas. She studied journalism and literature at Northwestern State University in Natchitoches, Louisiana, and served on the editorial board of its literary magazine, Argus. Find her poetry in publications including Eclectica Magazine and In Parentheses.