Three Line Poetry

Issue 52


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Poets in this issue — click a name to read

James Clarke
Fingering buttons
Triple tonguing sweet gasps
Make music with me

Jackie Maugh Robinson
chalk artist
signs a canyon in the sidewalk
my lost keys

Sonia Lee
Welcome to the bubble dreams
Feeling, thinking, drowning all at once
Between the slit of fantasy and reality

Nova Jones
prisms of colors dance on the wall
to the sound of pixie chimes
as chandeliers swing in the sun

Chris Wood
Dusk, mosquitoes bite
A symphony of crickets and cicadas
Fireflies keep time

Mary Crane Fahey
Unbidden, unbridled tears well up
Spill over, bathing your grief
Fierce and wild, in liquid sorrow

Judy Phelps
Bobbing Triangles
Sails dancing above the waves
Gliding past seagulls

Debbie Walker-Lass
Falling like Autumn
I need help for the harvest
Brown, red, bittersweet

Javone Davis
Rooms we left behind
Are stuck with our memories
And messes we made

Rebecca Kane
raking fall leaves
the whirling wind
mocking me

Margaret Tau
at crossroads I brake
for yellows and reds
autumn leaves

Josh Horowitz
divine city of gleaming gypsum
busy with life, with love, invincible
once

Angela Sargent
Endorphin release
I soar fast, high, breathless
Gliding past eagles

Erin Jones
backyard patch of violas
thinking of my mother
and a small Wisconsin town

C L Killgore
Water winds through
Empty, broken spaces
Smoothing out, recreating...

Suzanne Cottrell
Freezing rain glazes tree branches.
Frozen prisms diffuse sunlight.
Limbs crack; icy shards scatter.

Bill Melton
tilted in the sky
the Big Dipper pouring stars
an immense ladle

Annie Feucht
anthropomorphic
roach dances over pile rug
laughing in delight

Joel Savishinsky
The Zen Master knows that
he has nothing to teach you,
which is why it takes so long.

Duane Anderson
Potential,
there it is
and isn't.

Michael Flanagan
praying in the dawn
searching for a word, some light
receiving silence

Stephen Curro
twilight
the lake wears
a pink sky

Anthony Ray
old man in the chair
tell me your stories once more
I look up to you

Dean K Miller
The hunger in your eyes
Betrays the emptiness of your soul
An upturned hand asks for substance

Dave Bessom
Tightly wound, our atoms
hold each other
in the shape of arms.

Ann Christine Tabaka
If I hang upside-down
from this tree long enough,
I shall become a child again.

Doug Van Hooser
Disappointment slouches
in the chair, stares at the clock
as it repeats itself

Katherine Szpekman
The air between us sits like glass.
We drive in silence.
Two eggs cradled in their carton.

James B. Nicola
sloppily scrawled names
on back of snapshot. young friends
once. we squint to read

Zach Agnew
The screen glows bright
As the hungry device consumes the night
Leaving only crumbs of a life

Casey Harn
grandma's old house -
this year's leaves falling
on last year's leaves

George Stratigakis
The portraits on the wall gander down
In black and white tinged with rust
To tell how simple things often are.

Rachel Zempel
rising ball of fire
casting golden sunbeams on
a deserted town

JR Vork
winter fog
in the field
rushing to school

Annoj Thavalingam
Salacious hag
Driven to the precipice
Sanity reeling

Julia Gwiazdowski
My coffee
kisses electric.
Bitter-sweet.

Mimi German
we loved
the sea sings
flowers bloom

John Delaney
Whatever happens after
you drive down this road,
remember how it brought you there.

Claire Van Winkle
The creeping ivy
coils around the rose trellis,
climbing as night falls.

Paige Caine
The snowpacks melt, early this year,
waking the diapausing wasps
before the plants they pollinate

Connor Bjotvedt
Icy morning
My ghost breath; visible.
I'm already late for work.

Andrew Hamlin
You have put me to sleep
in the silence...
how long 'till you walk away

James Devine
There are beautiful meteors on fire
Pounding explosions into soft Broadway
Like poison tulips growing in reverse.

Reif Larsen
Late at night, I ride my red bike
With weathered paint and faded chrome
Down lamplit streets toward home

Christopher Fields
boardwalk dusk
December
one neon sign left

Cynthia Sharp
the softness of afternoon rain
your chair still in the light
long after you've gone

Jackie Maugh Robinson
not every day
the sun rises twice
newborn at her breast

Joshua Colombo
You whispered honey in my ear
It slowly dropped into my brain
Where your golden image appeared

Giuseppe Bartoli
Tonight, the half moon
is that bit of the thumbnail
you tend to cut off.

Maria DePaul
Up before sunrise
Stillness turns to birdsong
Crickets fall silent
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