Stanley Plumly: The Endless Moment

When Stanley Plumly died of the cascade effect of multiple myeloma, on April 11, 2019, he left us his final book of poetry intact, in order, meticulously worked over, and ready to go. His manuscript was neatly clipped in his old black notebook, propped next to the chair where he read and wrote at home in Frederick, Maryland. The book was typed, but Stan had written notes in black ink on some of the pages, too—adjustments, annotations. The lettering was deliberate, but shaky. Then again his handwriting had never been easy to read, a calligraphy of idiosyncrasy and a bit of flair.

, from which these four poems come, will appear in August 2020 from W. W. Norton. It is a master’s work: twenty-four poems, four pieces of prose-lyric memoir, and one work of blended prose and poetry. Middle distance is a painter’s term, and a poet’s. It describes the site—and temporality—between foreground and background. For Stan, it meant the capability of looking back, gazing ahead, all the while residing with rapt attention in the living present. He managed this balance with an engaged intimacy few