By Buffy Calvert
As flowers go, I’m plain
Paint box yellow all over
Four petals flaring down from a single stamen
The same yellow as that fancy daffodil
All trumpet and frills
And the goldfinch that flirts by
dipping his black tam and chevroned wings.
I tremble as an iridescent hornet
enters, clings, drinks, flies away
to my twin sister
We Forsythia girls cluster thickly
on every swaying branch.
Alone I’m plain
But together we must be amazing.
Everyone who passes