" Elsewheres
South

The long green shutters are drawn.
Against what parades?

Closing our eyes against the sun,
We try to imagine

The darkness of an interior
Where something might still happen:

The razor lying open
On the cool marble washstand,

The drip of something--is it water?--
Upon stone floors.”
-
North

Already it is midsummer
In the Sweden of our lives.

The peasants have joined hands,
They are circling the haystacks.

We watch from the veranda.
We sit, mufflered,

Humming the tune in snatches
Under our breath.

We tremble sometimes,
Not with emotion.
-
Waiting Room

Reading the signs,
We learn what to expect--

The trains late,
The machines out of order.

We learn what it is
To stare out into space.

Great farms surround us,
Squares of a checkerboard.

Taking our places, we wait,
We wait to be moved. "

― Donald Justice