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Donald Justice Short Poems

Famous Short Donald Justice Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Donald Justice. A collection of the all-time best Donald Justice short poems


by Donald Justice
 Thirty today, I saw
The trees flare briefly like
The candles on a cake,
As the sun went down the sky,
A momentary flash,
Yet there was time to wish



by Donald Justice
 Lights are burning 
In quiet rooms 
Where lives go on 
Resembling ours.
The quiet lives That follow us— These lives we lead But do not own— Stand in the rain So quietly When we are gone, So quietly .
.
.
And the last bus Comes letting dark Umbrellas out— Black flowers, black flowers.
And lives go on.
And lives go on Like sudden lights At street corners Or like the lights In quiet rooms Left on for hours, Burning, burning.

by Donald Justice
 We shall not ever meet them bearded in heaven
Nor sunning themselves among the bald of hell;
If anywhere, in the deserted schoolyard at twilight,
forming a ring, perhaps, or joining hands
In games whose very names we have forgotten.
Come memory, let us seek them there in the shadows.

by Donald Justice
 Your face more than others' faces
Maps the half-remembered places
I have come to I while I slept—
Continents a dream had kept
Secret from all waking folk
Till to your face I awoke,
And remembered then the shore,
And the dark interior.

by Donald Justice
 But these maneuverings to avoid
The touching of hands,
These shifts to keep the eyes employed
On objects more or less neutral
(As honor, for time being, commands)
Will hardly prevent their downfall.
Stronger medicines are needed.
Already they find None of their strategems have succeeded, Nor would have, no, Not had their eyes been stricken blind, Hands cut off at the elbow.

by Donald Justice
 Thirty today, I saw
The trees flare briefly like
The candles upon a cake
As the sun went down the sky,
A momentary flash
Yet there was time to wish

Before the break light could die
If I had known what to wish
As once I must have known
Bending above the clean candlelit tablecloth
To blow them out with a breath

by Donald Justice
 Late arrival, no
One would think of blaming you
For hesitating so.
Who, setting his hand to knock At a door so strange as this one, Might not draw back?