an old writer and his words

  • SO CLOSE AND YET

    Some say that we were oncebriefly so close you couldproperly call us one person.I know it did not last, and Igave up looking for youfor the longest time, althoughI always felt the connectionbetween us had never weakened.Years later I did get withineight or so feet of you but younever acknowledged my presenceso I moved on…

    Lou Faber

  • NO AUDITION

    It was a roleshe never anticipatednever wanted, leftto her sisters to carrythe genetic line forward.And she spentthe last half-centuryof her lifetrying to forgetthe role she playedand had to abandon.Although she now istwo decades goneon the second Mondayof May I now stopbless her and mourn herfor performing the rolethat brought me into being

    Lou Faber

  • APP-LICATION DENIED

    I can still recall my grandmother saying,whenever she thought I should be outsiderather than sitting in my room with a book,that “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Jewsdid not believe in the devil and that,in any event my hands were engagedin holding the book and turning pages.I…

    Lou Faber

  • RIDING

    A bicyclered Schwinnrust encirclingstem andheadset. Baseball cardsclippedto frameengagingturning spokesimagined motorspeeding downbuckling sidewalk. Skinned kneesbloody,wheel rimslightly bent,wishing suddenlyfor winter. First published in The River, Sandy River Review, March 2024https://sandyriverreview.com/2024/03/30/seeing-you-again-next-stop-riding-ty-newydd/

    Lou Faber

  • KNOWLEDGE

    I suppose I ought not be shockedwhen my grandson, all of twelve,explains to me the conceptof the expanding universe, norwhen asked about the capitalof Burundi fires back Gitegaand adds that Burundi has threeofficial languages, English, Frenchand of course Kirundi, and I nodhoping my ignorance isn’t obvious.I don’t dare ask how he knowslest he says everyone…

    Lou Faber

  • FAREWELL

    Is there any good way to remotelyannounce an unexpected death?When our mother died, her son (mystatus as a son then in flux althoughI wouldn’t discover that until later)opted for an early morning phone call,cursory, the time, the cause, its suddenness,and then assigned me to write and pay for the obituary,which he finally approved eight drafts…

    Lou Faber

  • SEEING YOU AGAIN

    I saw you again yesterday, as I haveso often recently and once again thoughtof approaching you for there is muchI would like to know about you and howwe ended up in the same place.But once again I sensed that youwanted solitude, wanted notto be disturbed, not to be questioned.You did smile briefly, a momentarysoftening of…

    Lou Faber

  • THE PARK

    He was taking a shortcut across the park. He saw the clouds building, about to bring the long-promised rain. He wasn’t sure why he decided to walk home rather than take the bus as he usually did. He didn’t like to walk, but the doctor had told him he needed to exercise more, and he…

    Lou Faber

  • THE VEIL OF TIME

    I still search for you behind the veilof time; I cannot look away.I wonder what you saw that night,what you felt in that unexpected,unwanted moment you couldn’t escape.I know I am struggling to reach intoa world I do not yet wish to enter,but all I recall are your eyes, notas they were that night but…

    Lou Faber

  • THE RIVER OF SADNESS

    I have written poems about my grandfathersand the lives I was told they led,having met none of them, but I knewI was appropriating their stories, claimingthem as my legacy although all I was doingwas adopting them, as their children hadadopted me, none of the stories truly mine,and I only family by the thinnest of tiesthat…

    Lou Faber