Dear Li-Young Lee,

Sage CohenSage poetry and prose0 Comments

My favorite day is Saturday.

My favorite color is
dog tongue and empty bowl.

My favorite color is
“happy,” the way my son says it,

clutching his small ambulance.
My favorite day is Thursday.

Thumb of circumstance.
My favorite window hinges

on the distance
of open and closed,

my heart its trapped glass
blushing a sunset-streaked descent.

My favorite dream is the one
in which I am high enough above

San Francisco to perceive the patterns.
My favorite room is hunger.

My favorite time of day is
when the light loosens me

to impression.
My favorite door ticks time.

I clip the biggest blossoms,
bouquets of days,

let the petals fall like mirrors
free, at last, of reflection.

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