Tag Archives: H. Edgar Hix

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, yet one more proof of a pulse.


H. Edgar Hix


Having received an offering
of a blood-red Ferrari
with black leather seats
and sterling silver hubcaps,
the goddess traveled at light speed
to the wild bees,
came back with five gallons of raw honey,
and poured it into the gas tank.

H. Edgar Hix is already tired of 2020.


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

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

Snow Has Its Own Little Ways

Snow has its own little ways:
melting when you don’t expect it,
flying from the breeze to your glasses,
keeping the dead mouse hidden until spring,
showing up on schedule or not,
calling you from her new boyfriend’s
to ask you to get her the sparkly purse
she left at your mom’s.

H. Edgar Hix is a big fan of snow unless you hand him a shovel or skis.