Tag: Jennifer Gurney

Two Poems by Jennifer Gurney

~ Randal A. Burd, Jr. ~ Leave a comment

The First Time I Took A Bus

The first time I took a bus I was four.
It was a big mistake for my mom to put me on a bus alone.
The driver said if we rode to the lake for swim lessons.
We had to ride home that way too.
So I got off, because I was meeting my mom and brother at the lake.
I was only following directions.
I walked home, found the hidden key, and let myself in.
I didn’t answer the phone when my mom called, because I wasn’t supposed to.
I didn’t answer the door when my neighbor came to check, because I wasn’t supposed to.
And when she called through the door, I finally let her in.
She called my mom at the lake and got it sorted.
It was kind of a big deal, being before cell phones and all.
I guess I misspoke, since I didn’t actually take a bus that time, after all.
It was the time I almost took a bus.


The Sound of Winter

When I step onto the bus and quiet myself
I can hear the sound of winter
The car wheels spinning through the melty slush
Following behind the snow plows, well, plowing
The laughter caught in the scarf wrapped around your face
As you laugh at an inside joke you both share
The ringing of the bells at the Salvation Army kettle
And the clank of a coin tossed in
A train whistle in the distance
Sounding as hollow and bereft as me
The silent wish made by my heart
Of one more Christmas together
The sound of my tears on my cheeks
As I begin the mourning of you



Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry has appeared internationally in a wide variety of journals, including Sparks of Calliope, The Ravens Perch, HaikUniverse, Haiku Corner, Cold Moon Journal, Scarlet Dragonfly and The Haiku Foundation. Jennifer’s haiku has recently won the 6th Basho-an International English Haiku Competition and was recently selected for the Golden Triangle Haiku Poetry Competition in DC. Her poetry has also been accepted into the Ars Nova Shared Vision project in Colorado and will be turned into a choral piece and performed in a series of concerts in the Denver area this June.

“Opening the Door” by Jennifer Gurney

~ Randal A. Burd, Jr. ~ 1 Comment

I have lived in Colorado for 32 years
And while it is one of the most beautiful places
On Earth
I don’t like living so far from my family
A distance that requires
Plane tickets
And days off
And writing sub plans
And planning so far in advance
So we know
Everyone will be home
For a visit

Don’t get me wrong
I’m thrilled to have the wherewithal
To be able to see my family
And now that the pandemic is mostly over
I get to travel much more frequently

But I yearn for the days of my childhood
When everyone lived within
Driving distance for a weekend together
And we could pack a suitcase
Make sandwiches for a picnic supper in the car
And see each other for the weekend
We did that a lot
Probably about every other month
When I was growing up

Except for my family in California
That did require plane tickets
Or a long cross-country road trip
We missed them so in the
In-between times

Like I miss my family now
Spread across the country

In just three days
I will get on a plane
And head to Texas
To see my son and his girlfriend
And the puppies
For five delicious days together

I will be celebrating my
Sixtieth birthday with them
And for that
I am infinitely grateful
Milestones and major life events
Go better with family by your side

I am leaning in to this time
And the hope that I’ll see them again
In two short months
In North Carolina
For my dad’s birthday
When we’ll be together for the first time
In over six years
And the first time truly all together
With Haley there too

When I retire and move to Michigan
My hope is that one day we will be
In driving distance
Maybe if Travis and Haley end up
More in the Midwest,
Where Haley is from
And seeing each other
Can be a bit more often
And definitely more spontaneous

And when I’m retired
There will be no taking time off
And writing sub plans
So even if I need to book a plane ticket
I will have so much more flexibility
And time to travel

And since I’ll be living in Michigan
I won’t need to be traveling home there
Because I’ll already be home

I still have family in
Wisconsin and Ohio
Chicago and Indiana
Aunts and uncles
Cousins
My oldest stepdaughter and her family
I’m very much looking forward
To being a car ride away
From family
In six short years

So in returning home
I will also be returning
To the hope of
More time with family
Even though none live in
Michigan itself

And perhaps with me there
There might be a yen
For my family
To return home again
And I might get to see them
Without getting on a plane
Or in a car
Or on a train
At all
But merely by opening the door




Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. Her poetry has appeared in a variety of journals, including Sparks of Calliope, The Ravens Perch, HaikUniverse, Haiku Corner, Cold Moon Journal, Scarlet Dragonfly, and The Haiku Foundation.

Two Poems by Jennifer Gurney

~ Randal A. Burd, Jr. ~ Leave a comment

Introduction to The Bard

When I spent a summer
with my cousins in California
My aunt and uncle
took us to my first
Shakespeare Festival.
I was 10.

My aunt had
walked me through
the play beforehand
so I’d know what to expect.
I loved the drive
from Chico to
Ashland, Oregon
through the mountains
snuggled in the car
with my cousins
my uncle and aunt
taking turns driving
and my grandma
engaging us all in
word games,
always the teacher.

As we entered the
outdoor amphitheater
I was entranced by
the theater itself
with tiered rock seating
and the stage and sets
as well as the general
buzz of excitement.
And then it began.

Actors entered the stage
from all directions in
gorgeous costumes
speaking this
magical lilting language
that I couldn’t understand
and yet fell in love with
nonetheless.
It didn’t matter that
I wasn’t sure what
was going on,
exactly,
I was just there.
Fully in the moment.
Transfixed.
Hypnotized by the Bard.
At 10.

My aunt kept glancing
at me,
catching my eye,
and smiling.
She had the same
look on her face
as I had on my heart.
She, too,
was in love.
With the Bard,
with the night,
with life.
It was truly magical.

Then it started to sprinkle.
And a ripple ran through
the audience as
actors began to come
onstage
wrapped in clear
poofy raincoats
to cover their elaborate
expensive
costumes
yet allow the audience
to still see their
Elizabethan ware.

The nice man sitting
to my right leaned over
and whispered to me:
“Excuse me.
Can you please tell me
what’s going on?
People are laughing and
I don’t quite understand.”
Turns out he was blind
and couldn’t see the
raincoats.
So I quietly conveyed
this and he chuckled lightly
as well,
now that he was in on
the joke.
When the light rain ended
the actors continued on
and raincoats
as if nothing had happened.

Although I’ve gone
to countless
Shakespeare festivals
and plays
from Canada
to Michigan
from DC
to Denver
and multiple times
in Ashland
and even seeing
the reconstructed
Globe Theater itself,
none can compare
to my inaugural introduction
to the Bard
when I was 10.


Begin Today

Perhaps
I have already met
The love of my life

And been loved
The best I will ever
Be loved

And perhaps
These are the best of times
And it’s pointless

To yearn for more
More connections, more enjoyment
More fulfillment

And maybe one day
Looking back on these times
I will be wistful

Knowing
That they
Were good

And maybe
That should be
Enough

But really,
What I long for
Is more

One more great
Romance of a lifetime
To love and be loved fully

One more whirlwind
Trip somewhere new
And unseen

A book of poems
Picked up by a publisher
To leave my mark

More time with my
Children and grandchildren
To see them grow and fly

More time with friends
To enjoy
To live life fully

To be alive
In the truest sense of the word
Fully, unquestionably alive

Perhaps
I’m trying to make up for lost time from
The pandemic

For sure
I’m trying to sort through grief
From Mom and Grandma

Without a doubt
I’m feeling loss
From the separation

And to figure out
Who I am in the
Singular sense

And I know that
Facing a birthday with a zero
Makes me philosophical

It’s not even
That big of one
When I think about it

It’s just not how
I imagined my life would be
At this stage of the game

And so I pause
To reflect
And wonder

What do I want to do
With this one wild ride of life
I’m on

And as I lean in
To the question
I hear the whisper of my soul

Be alive
Live fully
Begin today




Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. She is a newly published poet, at age 59, with over 150 poems in print thus far. Jennifer has also published commentary about poetry. During the pandemic, she joined the online poetry community of The Daily Haiku.