Just Plain Wrong

Sometimes in a conversation 

to someone who doesn't know

I say,

My husband died two years ago.

I don't say 

25 months and one week ago.

I say it in a normal

weather announcer voice,

"......a cold front approaching from the north west..." 

as if it's a normal thing to happen 

to a person.

What they don't know is the tsunami 

inside is always on replay,

so any tiny thing can

toss me into that wall of water.

Like today,

 driving in traffic

a tall man, slightly balding,

in a red jumper

is walking on the pavement 

in my direction.

And in one  gasp of a breath

I remember every millimetre of him,

my husband, 

a smile breaking on his face 

when he sees me.

And the thing of it is 

it's happening

now

now

not 2 years ago

not 5 years ago

not any time ago

but he's here

with me 

now 

in the car, 

with his smile,

in my memory,

which 

has no time limit

on it. 

There is no time limit 

on this wave

which is always breaking  

inside me,

while I continue to 

announce the daily weather to myself

as if I was a 

business as usual person,

instead of 

the one 

nearly drowning

in the water of 

of it's all  just

plain 

wrong.