Though he was not my teacher, no one taught me more about writing than Stanley Plumly. I first met Stan in 2011, at the Kenyon Review Writers Workshop. We later co-taught a section of the KRWW poetry workshop in 2014 and again in 2016, when I interviewed him for the KR Podcast. (You can listen to him read his beautiful poem “Dutch Elm” here, too.) Whenever I was at the workshop table with Stan, I wrote down nearly everything he said. “Don’t slam the door at the end of a poem. Instead step quietly out.” I haven’t written a poem since without this in mind.
Rita Dove once called Stanley Plumly “the successor to James Wright and John Keats, with a marvelous ear for the music of contemplation.” I won’t try to top that. But I can say a few things about Stan, my mentor and friend. There was no one I enjoyed conversing with more. If you were lucky enough to know him, you know exactly what I mean. Perhaps it was his Ohio roots, but for such a distinguished poet, he was humble, warm, witty, and genuine. I cherished his candor, his wisdom, his affectionate but firm advice, and I will miss it, as I will miss his unmistakable voice.
KR was fortunate to publish Stanley Plumly’s poems and prose over the years. I hope you’ll read some here. I hope you’ll listen, too.
“Elevens” from Spring 2004, Vol. XXVI, No. 2
“This Mortal Body” from Summer 2007, Vol. XXIX, No. 3
“Afterward” from Summer 2012, Vol. XXXIV, No. 3
KR Conversation with David Baker from Summer 2007
Stan, you were one of a kind. How lucky we were to learn from you and to know you. How lucky we are. Thank you.
