Donald Justice, a renowned poet and teacher, influenced the American poetry landscape. His contributions to the field were multifaceted, as he not only produced exceptional works of poetry but also influenced countless aspiring poets through his role as an esteemed educator. Justice’s impact can be seen in the way he explored themes of memory and identity, and in his meticulous attention to craft and form.
Born on this day August 12, 1925, Donald Justice began his writing career in the 1950s and quickly gained recognition for his unique poetic voice. His poems were often characterized by their lyrical quality and emotional depth, captivating readers with their evocative imagery and poignant reflections on the human experience. Justice’s ability to convey complex emotions in simple yet powerful language set him apart as a poet of great skill and sensitivity.
In addition to his own poetry, Donald Justice played a pivotal role in shaping the next generation of American poets. He taught at various prestigious institutions, including the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where he mentored several renowned writers such as Rita Dove and Mark Strand. Justice’s commitment to nurturing young talent and fostering a love for poetry in his students solidified his legacy as not just a poet but also as a teacher who inspired others to explore their own creative potential.
Donald Justice’s contributions to the American poetry landscape were recognized with numerous accolades throughout his career. In 1980, he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for his collection titled Selected Poems. This prestigious honor further cemented his status as one of the most influential poets of his time.
Donald Justice’s impact on the American poetry landscape is undeniable. Through his own poetry, his role as an esteemed teacher, and the recognition he received, Justice shaped the way we perceive and appreciate contemporary American poetry. His exploration of universal themes and dedication to the craft continue to inspire both established poets and aspiring writers today.
In Bertram’s Garden
Jane looks down at her organdy skirt
As if it somehow were the thing disgraced,
For being there, on the floor, in the dirt,
And she catches it up about her waist,
Smooths it out along one hip,
And pulls it over the crumpled slip.
On the porch, green-shuttered, cool,
Asleep is Bertram that bronze boy,
Who, having wound her around a spool,
Sends her spinning like a toy
Out to the garden, all alone,
To sit and weep on a bench of stone.
Soon the purple dark must bruise
Lily and bleeding-heart and rose,
And the little cupid lose
Eyes and ears and chin and nose,
And Jane lie down with others soon,
Naked to the naked moon.
-Donald Justice
Curated by Jennifer
