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  • What happens to the Grand Old Man, already slipping away?

    Who will recite "The Isles of Greece," at Sounion to his family, (next to Byron's name, inscribed in the ancient marble) while his daughter follows suit?

    Who else knows what the inscription says at Union Station?

    Who will now guard George Orwell?

    Who will guard me?

    I long for that literary space, the political universe next to which you stood slightly, politely to one side, notebook in hand.

    I miss the world which existed because of you.

    Is it possible to be nostalgic for that sort of thing?

    Perhaps there is a word for it.

    You'd know.

    Not a day goes by...

    I did take you and your family on top of the Acropolis one windy day in April.

    That much I did.
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