Expectation
I expected you for years.
My experience of the blessing that is you
Birthed an expectation of more.
I expected you for years.
I expected feeling kisses in greeting.
I expected hearing your voice.
I expected learning something new.
I expected hugging you close.
I expected silliness and joy.
I expected pleasure in our offspring.
I expected taking trips with you.
I expected laughing with you.
I expected Shavian dramatic hyperbole.
I expected touching your face.
I expected seeing your smile.
I expected sleeping next to you.
I expected waking beside you.
I expected snuggling with you.
I expected kissing your neck.
I expected crying together.
I expected enjoying our successes.
I expected working side by side.
I expected sharing our dreams.
I expected loving you, being loved by you.
I expected more years with you.
I expected you for years.
I still expect you.
I still expect to tell you something new.
I still expect to hear your voice.
I still expect to spend time with you.
I still expect your ashes to awaken.
We should call grief un-expecting.
Teaching the intellect you will not speak.
Retraining my heart that longs for you.
I still expect you, and yet
I put one foot in front of the other.
I explore the goodness still around me.
I count my fulfilled expectations.
I expected you for years.
I still expect you.
I expect you to greet me, take my hand.
I expect you to say you have missed me, too.
I expect you to say the years have been kind to me.
I expect you to dance with me.
I expect you to laugh with me.
I still expect you.
I expected you for years.