In Praise of Small Poems

Writers sometimes talk about poems as though longer automatically means deeper. We admire ambitious epics, book-length projects, and intricate sequences. There is certainly a place for all of those things.

But every now and then a tiny poem arrives and quietly reminds us that a few words can carry an astonishing amount of weight.

Take this poem, "Second Grade," by Merilee Johnson:

That's it.

Three lines. Eight words.

And yet, the poem opens an entire world.

I immediately find myself wondering about the child in the poem. Was she shy? Outgoing? Did she look forward to hearing her name each morning? Was the bus driver teasing, greeting, or celebrating her? Was it a song repeated every day, becoming part of the rhythm of childhood? The poem never tells us. Instead, it trusts us.

One of the remarkable things about very short poems is how much they rely on the reader. Longer works often have room to explain, develop, and elaborate. A poem like this succeeds because it provides only the essential details and allows the reader to supply the rest.

The result feels almost like a memory. Almost like it's my memory.

In fact, that's what I admire most about "second grade." It captures the way childhood memories often survive. Not as complete narratives, but as flashes. A voice. A gesture. A familiar routine. A small kindness that remains with us decades later for reasons we cannot entirely explain.

I also love the warmth of the image. In only a few words, Johnson creates a moment of recognition. A child boards a bus. An adult notices her. Her name is sung rather than merely spoken. There is affection in that choice of verb.

Many poems strive to be memorable through complexity. This one achieves memorability through simplicity. It is easy to underestimate how difficult that can be. Anyone can add more words. The challenge is knowing which words can be removed. The best short poems leave behind only what is necessary, creating space for readers to enter the poem and make it their own.

"Second Grade" is a lovely reminder that poetry does not always need to be long to linger in the mind. Sometimes a single moment, carefully observed and honestly presented, is enough.

And sometimes eight words are all a poem needs.

The poem first appeared in Instant Noodles Literary Magazine, where we have the privilege of publishing work that ranges from poetry and flash fiction to essays, artwork, and humor. Pieces like "Second Grade" remind me why I enjoy reading literary magazines so much. You never know when a few lines will stop you in your tracks.

Merilee Johnson is a New York City–based writer, performer, and MFA graduate of The New School. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies, and her children's book The Boy Who Caught the Moon was published by Mayari Literature. She is also active in several global online open mic communities.

If you enjoy discovering emerging and established writers alike, I hope you'll take a look at Instant Noodles Literary Magazine. Better yet, consider submitting your own work. Literary magazines thrive because writers are willing to share their stories, poems, artwork, and ideas with one another, and readers benefit from those discoveries every day.