Author: admin

this is how I love you gazing at the creation of your making filled with water and light the way you hover like a dragonfly over lead white and rabbit skin glue moiled sand and spume the waves piling up from before your birth...

I watch the wooodland wave its longing branches where wildflowers blow in great expanses to wind that plays along the forest’s edge in songs just yonder from the mountain’s hedge. A willow dapples near a frisky stream...

These are my acres no one can take from me- land of the pines, waterfowl on this lake… laps of golden sand drifting, I can see- mornings of sun blinded hours in each wake. Crackling needles heard under my feet, scents of pine...

pace silently back and forth, in a muddy chain link pen, crouch silently when I come near, watch with yellow eyes. You should roam forests, call mates, howl at the moon. Here you howl and pace all night. You should be wary of...

For Evans Our skis barely made a sound on snow Probably we’ll find out when we get home. A curtain of snow blew down from white pines I’m sure she’ll call right away. We cut a trail through fresh snow It’s good to be out. I...

After my blood’s drawn, I need food and drink, but pause at art in the hospital lobby; none of these paintings are of blood, though one has deep red. people rush by coming and going, sick or worried about somebody— a few...

An incongruity A shiny sagging Mylar balloon That’s misplaced and Seems searching for It’s fugacious purpose Blows aimlessness Through the woods “Celebrate!” it demands In garish colors Images of confetti And stupidly redundant...

Just before dawn The ecstatic Yipping and howling Of coyotes Too near In the night Woods fields And now rudely My backyard Belongs to them Their teeth shred Trapped rabbits Or as a pack Corner a doe I’m absolutely safe Within my...

eating a peach over the kitchen sink calling it dinner   Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry is widely published, two of her poems have won international contests and...

at the edges of each day grief waits

two months still reminding myself breathe