Poems that are short make for great reading. There are many poetic forms such as haiku, cinquain, and tanka that cater to short poetry. Some of those forms are included below. Ultimately, there is no specific form to short poetry, it is just a brief experience. For centuries people have been enamored with these little bite-sized ideas. They are easy to memorize, satisfying to read, and don’t take up too much time. Below, I have collected some of my all-time favorite poems that I would classify as short, and even threw in a couple of favorites that I have written. I hope that you enjoy reading them and encourage you to try writing some yourself!
Famous Short Poems
“The Red Wheelbarrow” by William Carlos Williams
So much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
“In a Station of the Metro” by Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
“This Is Just To Say” by William Carlos Williams
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.
“Fog” by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
“Snow Fence” by Ted Kooser
The red fence
takes the cold trail
north; no meat
on its ribs,
but neither has it
much to carry.
“Wild nights – Wild nights!” by Emily Dickinson
Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile – the winds –
To a Heart in port –
Done with the Compass –
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden –
Ah – the Sea!
Might I but moor – tonight –
In thee!
“Cat Haiku” by Buson
Evening glories—
The cat chewing the flower
Has its mind elsewhere
Personal Short Poems
“For the Boy who Dropped his Sugar Cookie in Hy-Vee” by C.W. Bryan
I’m sorry, child
but you cannot escape
the sad trap of gravity
I’m sorry, child
that you had to learn so early
what sprinkles sound like
as they hit the floor
“Planting Flowers” by C.W. Bryan
My girlfriend just turned 29.
She works a job
that she hates.
“I haven’t done a thing
with my life.”
I know that’s not true.
Just the other day
I saw her smash a dandelion
with a stick, filling
the air with snow.
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