If I Only Had One More Day
A poem about what I would do — writing prompt response

Wake up at dawn with no time to waste, to put my best face forward, to take on the heavenly world. First, give the sun a nod and greet the singing birds. Today is the day, against the clock I race.
Sprint down a familiar path, a camera in hand. Pause and see everything as I always do, except it all looks new. Trust the process. Breathe and unwind. Sealed with fingerprints, I’d snap Polaroids to leave behind for others to find.
Off the beaten path. Give a balloon to a child. Buy someone a cup of coffee. To spread as much positivity, step up, onward. Go out of your way to pave the way. For even if it were my last, I could still make a stranger’s day.
Unfazed by putting on weight, I’d eat a giant chocolate parfait. You might be wondering, “Ice cream for breakfast?” It’s sublime. Melting, lingering, the sin of gluttony. A sweet thought frozen in my mind. Funny how it seems only God can judge me now.
Ring ring. In rotation, I’d remind friends of their strengths, goals, and ambitions. Tell them of all their endearing traits, closing with: You mean so much to me, please remember me, take it from me — follow your dreams, you’ll know in the end it’s best not to wait.
For the hell of it, I’d go skydiving as the sky resets. Is this it? Wait a minute. Not yet. My time in this realm I will never forget. Bid farewell in the clouds with earth as my backdrop, while all memories flow high speed in free fall like a reel rewinding nonstop.
Numbers are now dwindling, so I hurry, hurry, hurry home to make every moment count in the evening. Stay present with dear company. Next, at the desk in privacy. My heart bleeds into pages as I touch ink to paper, penning all I could hope for and all I’ve ever known, in handwritten letters for my children to read after they’ve grown.
Time for my husband. Last but not least, I’d absorb him with all five senses as we lay in bed. The rest of me will face him with tears following a knowing nod. Holding on to each inhale. Contemplate my story unfold, gaze backward. Our fingers entwined, exhaling final words. If I only had one more day, I would say — having you in my life was the closest I’d been to the divine.






