Otherwise
I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.
Notes
Kenyon quietly chronicles the weightless ease of an ordinary day: eating cereal, walking the dog, sleeping beside her lover; while undercurrents of the transient clock pulse through every stanza. It offers a perfect baseline for July's lightness, reminding us that everyday peace is a radical gift precisely because it exists on the edge of a sudden change. By punctuating each simple comfort with the line, "it might have been otherwise," the poem untethers the self from the illusion of a permanent tomorrow, forcing us to hold the passing hour with a deep, unburdened gratitude. #poetry #july #zine #life #literature