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A poignant delight, especially the ballgame analogy. This interview reminds me uncannily of Mark Strand’s poem “Old Man Leaves Party,” which I love more on each return. I think you’ll love it too, if you don’t already.

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Rona, you prompted me to look up Mark Strand's "Old Man Leave's Party"—a beauty:

It was clear when I left the party

That though I was over eighty I still had

A beautiful body. The moon shone down as it will

On moments of deep introspection. The wind held its breath.

And look, somebody left a mirror leaning against a tree.

Making sure that I was alone, I took off my shirt.

The flowers of bear grass nodded their moonwashed heads.

I took off my pants and the magpies circled the redwoods.

Down in the valley the creaking river was flowing once more.

How strange that I should stand in the wilds alone with my body.

I know what you are thinking. I was like you once. But now

With so much before me, so many emerald trees, and

Weed-whitened fields, mountains and lakes, how could I not

Be only myself, this dream of flesh, from moment to moment?

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Oh that is wonderful

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