One Sentence Poems

H. Edgar Hix Seeking the Horizon My eyes thirsty for sunshine; the farm thirsty for rain. H. Edgar Hix is sitting in Minnesota this winter, growing older with that plodding rapidity only old age can achieve.    

H. Edgar Hix DESTROYER (for H.L. Hix Jr.) They call it a destroyer, this ship that cuts across a glass sea that effortlessly heals the tiny scratch it makes. H. Edgar Hix continues to live his paragraph one sentence at a time.    

H. Edgar Hix On Hearing of the Death of an Estranged Friend for Chuck Now that campsite will never be found again, never be filled with the dance of talking flames; will remain, but only as a darkness under too many stars no longer waiting for the not-coming dawn. H. Edgar Hix is in grieving, […]

H. Edgar Hix Zen Map Leafless ivy on a brick wall: A map pointing everywhere and nowhere. H. Edgar Hix is a Minnesota poet who believes short and short-short poetry is the ripple of the future of English language poetry and, perhaps, poetry worldwide because English speakers love one-lines of all kinds.  

H. Edgar Hix Why  I Use a Nightlight I want to see the boogeyman when he comes to get me to find out if he looks like a mirror. H. Edgar Hix is still watching this and that and writing about it.  

H. Edgar Hix Always Thursday He keeps himself alive and well by riding his stationary bike ten stationary miles every stationary day. H. Edgar Hix is ready for more, particularly in small doses, but also finds what already is is difficult enough to keep up with.  

H. Edgar Hix To Know To truly know snow is to forget all else, even snow. H. Edgar Hix is a big fan of snow unless you hand him a shovel or skis.