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Richard Hugo

Winter 1965

Napoli Again

By Richard Hugo

Long before I hear it Naples bright with buildings trumpets from the hill. A tugboat toots “paisan” and I am back. That dock I sailed from eighteen years ago. This […]

Winter 1962

Between the Bridges

By Richard F. Hugo

These shacks are tricks. A simple smoke From wood stoves, hanging half-afraid To rise, makes poverty in winter real.Behind unpainted doors, old Greeks Are counting money with their arms. Different […]

Winter 1965

Maratea, Pizzeria S. Biagio

By Richard Hugo

                            For Biagio Avigliano When you hobble, tattered through the square, they say: come in. We keep the maimed alive. The specialty today: hare Neapolitan or baccala. The price will be […]

Autumn 1963


By Richard Hugo

Why, this day you’re going, so much wind? When you’ve gone, I’ll go back in alone And take the stillest corner in the house— The dark one where your dark-eyed […]