Welcome back to the Daily Poem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network. I'm David Kerr.

Today's poem is by Donald Justice, an American poet who lived from 1925 to 2004.

On his Wikipedia page, David Orr, a critic, wrote the following, which I wanted to share for some context for you.

He wrote, quote, in most ways, justice was no different from any number of solid, quiet,

older writers devoted to traditional short poems. But he was different in one important sense.

Sometimes his poems weren't just good. They were great. They were great in the way that Elizabeth

Bishop's poems were great, or Tom Guns or Philip Larkins. They were great in the way that tells

us what poetry used to be and is and will be. Justice published 13 collections of poetry,

including selected poems, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1980. He also won numerous other prizes and received

grants from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts. The poem that I'm

going to read today is called Pantum of the Great Depression. It goes like this. Our lives avoided

tragedy simply by going on and on, without end and with little apparent

meaning. Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes. Simply by going on and on, we managed. No need

for the heroic. Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.

I don't remember all the particulars.

We managed. No need for the heroic.

They were the usual celebrations, the sorrows.

I don't remember all the particulars.

Across the fence, the neighbors were our chorus.

They were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows.

Thank God no one said anything in verse.

The neighbors were our only chorus, and if we suffered, we kept quiet about it.

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