The Possible Lives
by Ted Kooser
There were once so many I might choose among,
a warehouse of coats and shoes, and all my size.
Walking the streets I imagined myself in every house,
happy with whichever woman might be living there.
How might it be to be at home among the odors
of a hundred different lives, opening the curtains
each morning to a different view? Now I know
that this life I have is the only one I have ever had
or will ever be given, a cord of braided dreams
that I follow, hand over hand, into the distance.