Jennifer Freya Helgeson
Jennifer Freya Helgeson's creative writing explores themes of memory, loss, nature, and human resilience. She holds a PhD in Environmental and Developmental Economics and has authored several peer-reviewed publications, co-edited textbooks, and published in several media outlets. She began writing poetry during the autumn of 2025 and is particularly interested in styles of poetry that combine languages and are responsive across more than a single voice.
Helgeson's poetry has since appeared in several online and print anthologies. Notably, she has been featured in Plants and Poetry, Poem Alone, The Woodside Review, Tension Literary, Pacific Review, Maryland Bards 2026 Anthology, Two Thirds North, Myo, The Khaotic Good, A Work of Art, the Orenaug Mountain Poetry Journal, and Diutay Review, among others. She is thrilled to be included in Volume 24 of the Windward Review. She was the recipient of a poetry honorarium from Day Eight, a D.C.-based charitable foundation that empowers individuals and communities to participate in the arts.
Helgeson has a forthcoming poetry book, The Silhouette of the Day Before, accepted for publication by Finishing Line Press (expected January 2027). Visit the publisher's website: Finishing Line Press.
Helgeson is passionate about poetry as a way for children to see and process the world. She and her young children often read and write poetry together. When she’s not writing, Jennifer enjoys gardening, wandering in nature, dancing, experimenting in the kitchen, and spending meaningful time with her dog, close friends, and family.
Jennifer Freya Helgeson’s poem “Rayito de Sol”, featured in Windward Review, Vol. 24, showcases strong and clear vivid imagery that draws readers in and is a thoughtful exploration of serious themes regarding social issues. The words used throughout the poem are powerful and meaningful, evoking emotions in those who read the poem. Read an excerpt below:
Rayito de Sol
"It was morning in North Center,
the kind with light that forgives—
soft gold on brick and laughter,
steam curling from paper cups,
tiny shoes slapping pavement,
the chorus of “¡Buenos días!”
drifting into November air.
Inside, walls bloomed with color—
painted suns, green handprints,
the alphabet in two languages,
voices learning to belong.
Miss Diana’s keys jingled
as she stepped from her car,
a blue sedan humming its usual song."
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