Donald Hall, who served as U.S. Poet Laureate and spent decades as one of America's most celebrated poets, offers these essays written after reaching eighty. From his ancestral farmhouse in New Hampshire, where he moved after leaving a Harvard professorship, Hall reflects on the peculiar experience of very old age with characteristic wit and unflinching honesty. He writes about physical diminishment—the indignities of medical procedures, the narrowing of his world to a single room—without self-pity but with precise observation. He recalls his marriage to the poet Jane Kenyon, their creative partnership, and his grief after her death from leukemia. The essays range from memories of famous literary friends to meditations on writing's enduring importance as his own production slows. Hall's voice remains that of a working writer attending to language even as he contemplates mortality. He finds unexpected pleasures in limitation: the intensity of small observations, the freedom from ambition, the deepening appreciation for what remains. These essays model how to face aging with dignity, humor, and continued engagement with the life of the mind. Readers of any age will find wisdom here about time, creativity, and the art of paying attention.