a dusky walk
through the middle
of the park
clear of
the shadows
of branch
and leaf
at its edges
the only light
stretched out
but struggling
from distant
lamp posts
or the
yet more distant
halo of moon
breaching cloud
it is enough
to plot
a route by
but not
with confidence

a leather flapping
overhead
tells tale
of bats
in their erratic
yet assured flight
abhorred
by many
perhaps for
that very reason;
unpredictable
unflinching
not flying
the expected path

There are knocks, no ring

at the door, I open it --


for a little boy.

I really love you,

but what you expect from me --


I can't bear no more.

we heard them talking
about a meteor shower
expected later that night
highly anticipated
set to accompany
the rust red supermoon
that we caught
following us home

lay down upon blankets
a meagre effort
to provide at least
a little comfort
while we witnessed
this astral magnificence
the significanceof which
none of us was certain
childishly imagining
a spectacle from
the dazzling of shooting stars
trailing tails like fireworks
pointing in wonder
appearing briefly
before burning out

instead
we found ourselves staring
up at one of those
countless  spots of white
slowly
unenthusiastically
     drifting across
          the stratosphere
it could be a meteor
maybe just an aeroplane
or simply a twinkling
trick of the light
yet still we watched
without excitement
without direction
without relevance

expecting a boom -
but it was only a whisper.
expecting a spectacle -
but it only got dimmer.
expecting praise -
when only deserving of pity.
just when you couldn’t finish the race
was the distance travelled all a waste?
fell too short, a disgrace
when the expectation wasn’t my fate.

I'm caught in a net,

not in your, but in my net --


of expectations.

is the decision mine or yours? because i’m unsure
bound by your expectation whilst trying to honour my own, its harder than it sounds
i feel the weight in my bones
what do i do?
what do i do, now

Hope in life for all of us
Comes full of expectation
Looking forward in our minds
With fervent aspiration

We expect some better things
To flow in our direction
And expectation sets intent
And shapes our world connection

Thus we see our daily hope
And happy expectation
Helps to bring our hopes to pass
And mold them to creation

So claim your daily power
And all the liberation
That follows optimistic hope
And mindful expectation

On my good days I pride myself in being good
A good writer
A good singer
A good dancer
A good pianist
A good painter
A good baker

On my good days I like to think I'm a good person
A good citizen
A good neighbor
A good student
A good classmate
A good teacher
A good daughter
A good sister
A good friend
On my good days I'm good enough, aren't I?

But on my bad days, I strip myself away from good things
Without my hobbies
Without my grades
Without my family
Without my friends
What is there left to be good at?
Without validation
Without reassurance
Without comfort
What am I good for?
I'm left alone with myself

On my good days I'm a good person
I'm thoughtful
I'm kind
I'm intelligent
I'm helpful
But I'll never be happy with that
Until I'm good for something bigger
Until I'm good enough to live with myself

this must be
the correct train
there was not
another option
it was waiting
on the expected platform
it departed
at the expected time
and it headed
in the expected direction

despite all of that
i remain on edge
at every juncture
of the journey
every announcement
sets me on edge
every stop
sees me checking
double-checking
that this is
the anticipated station
that i am on course

even when assured
of heading the right way
there is no relaxation
instead
I’ll countdown each station
yet to be visited
before reaching
that final destination
as each station is passed
another count is completed;
numbering one stop less
than the previous

and yet still
i will lose track
of where i am
and how far remains
of my journey
panic will set in
blinded by doubts
and undue regrets
i will question
it all