Forsythia

 
 
 
 
When I arrive at the end of this sentence / which seems to bear the death of me / if it will live long enough to carry the image of daybreak / and the riverbank where forsythia bloomed / where I see myself forever alone /illuminated in whatever reflection this language bears / forever outside what the words themselves might render / the forsythia in newlight / blooming again and again and then gone
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Jacqueline Winter Thomas is an M.F.A. candidate in poetry at UNC Wilmington where she teaches courses in creative writing. Her poems have been published and are forthcoming in Barrelhouse, Eratio, Nude Bruce Review, Trillium, Burningword, and more. She is interested in the convergence of poetics and poststructural semiotics. She writes at heteroglossia.tumblr.com.