On this train ride from
So much of what
Ontario is so perfectly
different that the idea of
Just now, I looked up to see a small town, historic fragments, a few old storefronts facing an empty parking lot by the rails. Weeds wherever there's nothing else. Like this:
A couple of people, looking at the train, seeming to think nothing, say nothing, be nothing. I could be anywhere. Perhaps I am. Perhaps that's Canada's secret.