This is a notebook of photos and words. Some poetry, some fiction, some real life.

On the way home

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 On the way home from Amherstburg where I hosted a reading at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church with a group of Black Moss authors, I cut across the country to stop at River Canard. I came across this old ball diamond and a park, and wandered through it. I called ahead to tell my daughter, Elise, who was visiting from Hamilton that I would be home soon. She had an apple pie she had just made for me. Her pies are like my mother’s. She makes them with such ease. I couldn’t wait, but I stopped long enough to pause at this park and photograph this silent moment in the fall.


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