14 Quotes by Donald Justice

Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago.

Now comes the evening of the mind. Here are the fireflies twitching in the blood.

If he could sleep on it. He would make his bed with white sheets And disappear into the white, Like a man diving, If he could be certain That the light Would not keep him awake, The light that reaches To the bottom.

For only with your help shall They come to see–and with no more Than average daily terror– All things for what they are, All things for what they are.

Waiting for dusk and someone dear to come and whip him down the street, gently home.