I was sitting around in New York unemployed when the phone call came: my old friend Arno’s wife Mary, in tears. The story she told me was roughly this: Arno had gone to the South of France to help sail a yacht across the Atlantic. The boat

Alma Vassov leans forward at her desk, intent, silent, chin resting on tightly clasped hands, unread term papers before her. Unseen, Luc’s postcard from France — small gray stone church ...

As a poet/translator/teacher my partner Richard Howard has more books than one can count.