Little pieces of shells
I wake and everything
Is orange and yellow again
I just want to be a letter again
I wake and call him
There are so many ways to go
There was a time
That I loved the sunset
More than I loved to remember
When you love someone
It’s hard to think about
Anything else but the sun
When it’s your day
And all you can do
Is to sit there
Yellow gold painted
In the lock of the day
That is forever
Finally what was left
Were a set of pieces
Forgive me
Rhonda call me quickly
And when I leave
Call me again
There was a time
When I could barely
Think of anything else
I dreamt of an ochre sea
It called back
In the time of greed
Finally what I left
Was everything
I needed to dream
Call me again
Yellow and red
Pieces in the wood
Dorothea Lasky is the author of seven books of poetry and prose, including Animal (Wave Books). She lives in New York City.