Comeback

close up photography of four baseballs on green lawn grasses

Comeback

I’m picturing one of them reclined in his chair,

and the other one sitting on the couch
One with his slippered feet up, and a beer
One with a glass of pop, and a comfortable slouch

Both men wear their casual pants and golf shirts,
and both have intentionally short, completely gray hair
There’s a Jays game on, in the top of the eighth,
and a bowl of peanuts, that both of them share

I can hear their commentary after a pivotal play
Sharp criticism of the base-runner’s choices
Knowledgeable experience that fills their words,
And a youthful exuberance that joins their voices

The subtle jabs of friends are parlayed back and forth
Each ready for a comeback, as the other one slyly talks
“What could an old curler possibly know about baseball”
“You must’ve taken too many blows whenever you’d box”

The spirited rant transitions naturally during a commercial,
away from the second baseman and his prolonged slump
It turns seamlessly back to differing opinions of Trudeau,
and a sarcastically disdain-filled consensus on Trump

You would never know that they were fairly new friends
with the familiarity and the intensity of all they discuss
You wouldn’t suspect that they had met in their eighties
That they’d only met in this last year, and because of us

Their furrowed brows ease back into a playful twinkle
as their jostling conversation becomes their laughter
With a one-run deficit, in the bottom of the eighth,
they’ll find plenty of time for their wisdom, after

I see your father, reaching for the last of the peanuts,
then he pauses, and passes them to my dad instead
I see them sit up straight, suddenly, together in unison,
as a loud two-run homer puts their Jays ahead


I think about them often, when I watch with you

Whatever the sport, and whatever the season
Life has a way of putting good people together
And we are good people, for an obvious reason

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Wakefield

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Wakefield
A small village
A huge heart
A desperate family
A new start

Perogies, and perspective
New friends, community, drinks
The comfort in knowing
What the best in us thinks
—–

Live music for what ails me,
My spirit needing a lift
The Black Sheep beckoned
My own pre-Christmas gift

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A Weber Brother’s Christmas’…
That had to be good for my soul
I was alone, and a few hours early
 So, it would be fresh air and a stroll
—–

Intending to bide some time,
I curiously opened your door
Just looking for a unique pint
What I found,  was far more

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At first, it was exactly what I wanted
A small crowd, and ‘Perogy Night’!
Easing into the Kaffé 1870 atmosphere
Something about it, feeling just right

It didn’t take very long, however
The numbers began to grow
For live music and a fundraiser
More and more locals, I came to know

Photos Andre Forget

Kaffé 1870, Wakefield for Refugees
An awaiting host, a timely cause

A community coming together
Just like that, and just because

Words from the dedicated organizers,
A gregarious councillor, made everyone smile
The people, the closeness, the obvious warmth
My trip, already, well worth its while

Photos Andre Forget

It would become hard for me to leave
‘Godknowswhat’ was sublime
Extremely accomplished musicians
Donating their talent, and their time

I couldn’t count all of the terrific chats
I had found, in just a few hours
But, what I will never underestimate
Is community, and its obvious powers

Wakefield for Refugees sign showing $30,000 raised.

Seeing the good in so many people
And knowing, when I hear it
Experiencing your generosity

And sharing in your spirit

A raffle ticket, some Bean Fair coffee,
For my table, another round 
I had donated, but felt like the recipient
As I departed, Black Sheep bound
—–
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Two Weber hours later
After another fantastic show
It was time for me to leave
But, I didn’t really want to go

Reflecting, smiling again,
And thinking, alone in my car
About an extremely fortunate family
About just how lucky they are

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Heading home, yet feeling closer
Invigorated, inspired, alive
Accompanied by this community
For my two-hour drive

Kaffé 1870, and The Black Sheep,
The warmest of patrons, and cold beer
And Wakefield, I am grateful
That circumstance brought me here
—–

Perogies, and perspective
New friends, community, drinks

The comfort in knowing
What the best of us thinks

A close community
An open heart
A fortunate family
A new start

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Local


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Local

There is something missing in suburbia…

A city has them, scattered all around
A buzz of activity in any small town
It’s where the locals can often be found.
A distinct identity for most of these places
Where’s there’s no shortage of friendly faces.
A wheel of houses, with a familiar hub
I
t’s commonly known as your local pub.

There should be one in every neighbourhood…

A place to meet, after the daily grind
A place to relax, laugh and unwind
In Canada, however, we are woefully behind.
They’ve been doing it in Europe for years
Relaxing after work, with friends and beers.
Like a charter member, of the best club
You are a loyal patron of your local pub.

An avenue for embracing subdivided life…

A perfect chance for neighbours to meet and talk
Taking advantage of the hour on the clock

A simple stroll, to the very next block.
Have a kitchen with food, and include a menu
So the kids can come and enjoy it with you.
Just sit right down, order up some grub
They’re cooking for you at your local pub.

A convenient way to enhance your day…

Decrease the list of “friends you seldom see”
A helpful boost to your local economy
Everyone knows
 that it’s the ‘place to be’.
No need to worry about driving your car
A fact that eliminates many a bar.
No need for transit, or a taxi stub
It’s walking distance to your local pub.

It seems pretty basic when you add it all up…

Neighbours getting together in one place. +

 An escape from the day-to-day of the daily race. +
  A friendly smile on every familiar face. +
Families gathering to meet and greet. +
Saving on gas, because you use your feet. +
Having said all of that, herein lies the rub
= My subdivision,
 and I, need a local pub.

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