Summer 2011 • Vol. XXXIII No. 3 Poetry |

Look for Me

If you want me again look for me anywhere but here, preferably out of the country, say, Italy, up by the glacial lakes, among the ghostly Alps and the green pre-Alps, in the shadow of Monte Rosa, in one of the little towns, places I've lived, in fact and memory, like Varenna or Laveno, right there at the top lip of the water, midnight at its depth, daylight breaking waves. Or west, on a line, in the Piedmont, above Liguria, where they grow the darkest grape, Nebbiolo, between the villages of Alba and Barolo, on a patch-and-rag landscape of dusky blue hillsides. Or south, off the warm coast of Vesuvius, islands like the goat crests of pale mountains. Cities, too, the Paris of the 6th, off Saint-Suplice, the walk-up second floor of a small boutique hotel, in stone or stucco, especially near the corner of rue Ferou and rue de Vaugirard, nothing I could afford except to run a bill. Though Prague I could afford, at least for a while, the Ministry of Education Residence on Dlouha, just do

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Stanley Plumly’s most recent book of poems is Orphan Hours (W.W. Norton, 2012). His collection Old Heart won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and the Paterson Poetry Prize and was a finalist for the National Book Award. In 2015, his book of prose The Immortal Evening won the Truman Capote Prize for Literary Criticism. Plumly is a Distinguished University Professor at the University of Maryland. In 2010 he was elected to membership in the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

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By Stanley Plumly

If you want me again look for me anywhere but here, preferably out of the country, say, Italy, up by the glacial lakes, among the ghostly Alps and the green […]

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