If i should enter the house and speak with my own voice, at last, about its awful furnitutre, pulling apart the covering over the dusty bodies; the randy father, the husband holding ice in his hand like a blessing, the… — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
“oh antic God return to me my mother in her thirties leaned across the front porch the huge pillow of her breasts pressing against the rail summoning me in for bed. I am almost the dead woman’s age times two.… — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
wishes for sons by Lucille Clifton i wish them cramps. i wish them a strange town and the last tampon. I wish them no… — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
“these hips are big hips. they need space to move around in. they don't fit into little petty places.” — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
I keep hearing tree talk water words and i keep knowing what they mean. — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
You might as well answer the door, my child, the truth is furiously knocking. — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
In the bigger scheme of things the universe is not asking us to do something, the universe is asking us to be something. And… — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
If i should enter the house and speak with my own voice, at last, about its awful furnitutre, pulling apart the covering over the… — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
To be a good poet, you must care more about the writing, than the writer. — Lucille Clifton Copy Share Image
