Three Line Poetry

Issue 32


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Poets in this issue — click a name to read

James W. Spain
The evening dew on the blades of grass
Relieved of duty for another day
By the first ray of morning sun

Theresa Cancro
warmly, on the lattice
of my withering soul,
the sun’s memories melt

Bill Melton
Neck feathers ruffle
From a high perch a dove sings
Plaintive mating call

Bill Melton
Gusting gale force wind
Ship busting waves, throwing spray
Wild Atlantic ride

Jackie Maugh Robinson
Receiving our been-there advice
She then does what she has to do
Until grief can turn to grateful

Wendy Legorete
circadian beat,
discount cacophonous heart,
who’s percussing still

Tamara De Dominicis
the first red bud
of my crabapple tree
a proud cardinal

Cody Schweickert
sever ropes
count clouds
drift south

Rebecca Dutsar
I have sung your name
into the empty belly of the ocean.
Forgive me.

Souvik Chakraborty
Nestled within
a hermetically sealed casket
your ruby red tears

Barbara Tate
the sun set in the Gulf
and sizzled a steamy afterglow
in dying ember

Jennifer Moore
I sang when you left,
scrubbed, purged, washed you from my hair,
shed you like a skin.

Mandy Brown
Garden blossoms droop
Like mandalas blown away
Change is permanent

Audrey Samuelson
Humid summer days
The trees heavy with apples
Snakes finding comfort in the tall grass

Reine D Esther
Grief of heart
These severed souls
Lest no blood be shed

Shloka Shankar
autumn breeze
the downward spiral
of a maple leaf

Natalie A. Drozda
You were ageless
and will always be
wind chimes in summer twilight

Martha Christina
Late Spring snow;
winter remaindered
into mittened hands.

Nancy Iannucci
What a trollop! Undressing
for all to see –silk
petals skirt a magnolia tree

Tyson West
doe in the mist
breath flumes
prints in the air

Tyson West
stars on a frog pond
shine upward to light
lanterns in the sky

Zach Agnew
An orange glow marks the way,
the final flickers of a fading streetlight,
guiding frightened footsteps home.

Nandita Das
Pearldrops of rain
sparkle like emerald
On velvet green grass

Jerry Durick
Sound
We hear highway from here
Like tinnitus or Muzak
its hum never goes away

Sandra Bounds
Sunset
Gold, red, and saffron tints
Smoldering glory

Sandra Bounds
Winter wounded trees
Wait patiently for healing
Spring’s new gift of green

Scott Hicks
morning, mockingbird, and a stone
the bird’s shadow
makes the cold stone colder

Shari Crane
Raven sings of limy jellybeans
Breeze feathers plastic
Whale mourns

Julia Hogan
My own worst failure— life
as a trespasser, eating fruits
I did not grow.

Matt Sawyer
negative feelings
permeate egregiously
bits of truth remain

James W. Spain
The hard rain
Gave way to a gentle patter
Until morning chased it away

Alexander Hagen
grease and sugar
better education and health
American graves spread over lifespans

Anna Cates
in dappled shade
beneath white dogwood bracts
a warbler worming

Herb Kauderer
metal capped bottle
filled with captured memories
of delicate scent

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
pink sky at sunset
on a watercolor painting
imaginary breeze

Joyce Lorenson
atmospheric haze
another world beyond
the vanquished moon

Allison COwzer
A manifesto
To end austerity
Farewell to Winter

Alan Katerinsky
Twilight, perfumed woods.
Spring evening’s forest scent
beckons us onward.

Rebekah Keaton
She lived hymned, edging the lawn
and aerating the soil’s rich bed
where she planted bulbs, singing.

L. Mad Hildebrandt
Rainy season heat
Hot intense humidity
Sudden burst rains down

Aida Bode
Autumn is your toy,
my love, and I am the child
who can’t play with it...

Linbar Bartlett
Tea for two
she sits waiting
one cup still empty

Addison Woodside
the tulips are dying
i’m fine
new won’t stay

Susan Gentry
Thrown away, ignored
Time, sunshine, fresh air, healing
Inner strength restored

Susan Gentry
Soft summer breezes
memories of three sisters
now two against one

Howard Sage
Last April Darryl,
now dead, swept and smiled outside
the Village Cards store.

Noah Westfall
A breathtaking view
The cabin is a great place
Long road to the top

Jacob Riyeff
I sit smiling in a basement office
editing five centuries of psalter--
the world devouring my grateful heart.

Mark Butler
rain falls, wheat bows
ahead, stone walls
statues at prayer

Glen Wilson
In a world that tells you
not to show your hand,
he turns out his palms.
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