Summer 2014 • Vol. XXXVI No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 2014 |

Late Winter Dusk

Out of my mouth a thrush, a spotted leaf, invisible among all evening things, the sun having passed almost completely through the piping of the new snow in the trees. When my thrush sings it speaks, I think, in clear "liquid ethereal tones" to hold off the night-long vacancy of dark. What is it about this dying time of day we love, no one else, in the moment, alive, the streetlights still not on, then starting on, the last hour colder than the one before, the bone-bark plane trees higher than the roofs, filled to the top with bells, this hermit thrush or wood thrush having arrived too early?

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.
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.

Read More

Elevens

By Stanley Plumly

Out of my mouth a thrush, a spotted leaf, invisible among all evening things, the sun having passed almost completely through the piping of the new snow in the trees. […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.