stolen fruit
picked along the pathway
infinitely sweeter
over-ripe berries
blacker than the night
fall into my hand
plastic-wrapped
store-bought pints
can never compare
tell-tale sign
of the theft —
silent juice smudges
Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. She is a newly published poet with more than 450 poems published in 2022 and 2023. Jennifer’s poetry has appeared in a variety of journals, including The Ravens Perch, HaikUniverse, Haiku Corner, Cold Moon Journal, Scarlet Dragonfly and The Haiku Foundation.
