The poet Craig Arnold, who has been missing since May 2, is presumed dead. His family and friends have been attempting to reclaim his body from a ravine on the volcanic island he’d been exploring; if you’re interested in assisting with this effort, please visit the Facebook group devoted to this effort for updates.

Many people in the poetry world knew Arnold personally, but even those who didn’t will feel the sense of loss that comes from realizing, as the poet C. Dale Young recently put it, “there will be no more poems from him.” Poems are, after all, the way most poets know one another. You see a few lines in a magazine; you get an impression of a sensibility; you feel an obscure connection, or an equally obscure disconnection. In the end, what one poet means to another depends entirely upon what Thom Gunn (to whom Arnold’s final book is dedicated) describes as “the crisp vehemence / of a lifetime reduced to / half a foot of shelf space.”