Forsythia

by Gillian Cummings

I sound like small bells
in the wind or a small boat

to a lost and faraway island
returning, with cargo of

lemons and loaves. You have seen
my flags of warning. Or peace.

Unearthed citrine stones
faceted with stars of my name.

I am one million goldfinches
fluttering to find one nest

in the heart of God. And I am
God’s gold heart, shining.

::

Gillian Cummings is the author of The Owl Was a Baker’s Daughter, winner of the 2018 Colorado Prize for Poetry, and My Dim Aviary, winner of the 2015 Hudson Prize from Black Lawrence Press. Her poems have appeared in The Colorado Review, Denver Quarterly, The Laurel Review, The Massachusetts Review, Tupelo Quarterly, and in other journals. She lives in Catskill, New York.

Image: Anastasia Krachkovskaya

ID: close up of forsythia.