an old writer and his words

  • THIS TOO

    When I hear “this tooshall pass,” I hopeat least for a whilethey are not talking about me.The flowers outsidedo not ask such questions,too busy drawing eyesto really care.And the now deadpalm tree in the yardhas become stoicjust watching,always watching.

    Lou Faber

  • HERE’S LOOKING AT YOU

    The mirror and I broke up this morning. We’d been together quite a while but I was tired of its refusal to show the real me and not some aged version the mirror created. The mirror, of course as it always did, said it was not at fault, but it always says that. It tried…

    Lou Faber

  • THE FINAL SCENE

    For far too long he had beena marionette dancing to a tunehe could not hear, always staying silent,lost in a kabuki theater of the absurd.But he had grown tired of performingat their every demand, his life livedperpetually on call, no time truly his.He was drained by them, empty,not that they cared for they knewthe adulation…

    Lou Faber

  • THIS IS NOT: AN APOLOGY

    This is an apology I never wantedor thought I would have to write butnow, my grandchildren, it is necessary. This is not the world I wantedto leave to you, what I had hopedwas a world at peace, a world whereyou could be anything without beingjudged or shunned, where wordshad meaning and books were treasures. Instead…

    Lou Faber

  • SEPARATING

    We sometimes speak of continentspulling apart, land bridges severed,the route taken to get here now gone,no going back, no back to go to.The continent of my youth, myyoung adulthood is gone, recededinto the fog of fading memory, and Iam now a prisoner of sorts on thisnew continent of life, moving evermore quickly to an unavoidable…

    Lou Faber

  • CHANGES

    Each morning after arisingI look in the mirrorI imagine everything is the same as the day beforeI imagine everything has changedf rom the day before.I do ask the mirror what itbelieves has changed, what itbelieves has stayed the same.Most days it says nothing, merelystares back at me, mocking.Occasionally the mirror will concedethat it is another…

    Lou Faber

  • FAMILY PLOTTING

    I suppose the only thingmy adoptive parentsnever fought overduring the endless divorcewas who would getto be buried in the family plot.The lawyers disposed of iton their behalf and allthat was left to argue overwas the pittance that remainedonce their fees were collected.My birth parents hadno such problems, the onlytime they were togetherwere the momentssurrounding my…

    Lou Faber

  • MEMORIAL PRAYER

    We are rapidly approachingthe forty-ninth day since youdied early that morning.We knew you would be dying,you told us so, told usnot to worry, it was your time.Still each day we recitethe memorial verses, hopeothers in the sanghado as well, hope that yourtransition out of this lifehas been made, in somesmall measure, easierby our daily recitation.We…

    Lou Faber

  • GOING SLOWLY

    It is a simple fact that I amlikely going blind, but onlyslowly so far, one eye witha hole in its vision, but outsideits event horizon, largely normal.It is odd that when you know youwill likely lose your sight thatbecomes less scary, you approachit as something new, testingyour vision constantly butlooking more closely, takingin details you…

    Lou Faber

  • SO WE ARE

    She says “We’re going to be movingback up north,” and you can seefrom the scowl on his face that thisis not an idea he likes at all, buta battle he knows better than to fight.He has been through so manymedical crises and he shows signsof the toll they have taken on him,but you cannot see…

    Lou Faber