Author: Donald Justice

Jane looks down at her organdy skirt As if it somehow were the thing disgraced, For being there, on the […]

1 Dear ghosts, dear presences, O my dear parents, Why were you so sad on porches, whispering? What great melancholies […]

A delicate young Negro stands With the reins of a horse clutched loosely in his hands; So delicate, indeed, that […]

Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow. The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened. Why this […]

But these maneuverings to avoid The touching of hands, These shifts to keep the eyes employed On objects more or […]