an old writer and his words

  • AN OFF YEAR

    The was a winter, once where even in the north the snow refused to fall and ice rejected jamming the culverts, the sky stared down in amazement. That was the year trees would not bud and flowers fled deeper into the sweetness of the earth, grass singed and lay indolent. It was a year my…

    Lou Faber

  • AGING GRACELESSLY

    To know the road ahead ask those coming back. — Chinese Proverb I have progressed to the point that I no longer mark time in neat segments based on rotation of this world about that, now I am measured against those around me, I seek those with whom I share an age. It is best…

    Lou Faber

  • AGING

    She would have been, what … does it matter anymore, frozen in time at that last age before time ceased to matter and images became locked and only the viewer grew older but glad at least for that. The only thing worse than getting older is not she once said, then as was her fashion,…

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE MARGINS

    Horizons are the thing we have they greatest trouble with. They are omnipresent, immutable and yet move at our approach. They are at once inviting and fear inducing, though now we are largely convinced they do not mark the edge of a precipice over which we would catapult into some endless abyss crossing their margin.…

    Lou Faber

  • DAIZUI’S GREAT KALPA FIRE 正法眼蔵 二十四

    All things are born and die so if this world dies at the end of its cycle of life and we are here, do we die with this world and which of us will be first reborn. Only when the mind collapses is the world born only when the mind collapses does the world die.…

    Lou Faber

  • RESOUNDING SILENCE*

    (*Be forewarned, this is a shift from the usual post. On December 14, 1992 there was a shooting on the campus of Simon’s Rock College of Bard. A professor and student died, four others (my son included) were seriously wounded. Twenty years to the day later, in Connecticut 26 people died in a shooting at…

    Lou Faber

  • HELL, FAR LEFT CORNER

    I suspect that I am not alone in wondering if there is a corner of literary hell set aside for those who foist clichés on the world and at the head of that table should sit the fellow who first said “time marches on.” Even Einstein realized that time is relative, and as one who…

    Lou Faber

  • FORETELLING

      The chill foretells winter much as birth foretells death but for humans there is only the spring of childhood.

    Lou Faber

  • EDGE OF WINTER (FOUR HAIKU)

    The clouds build slowly threatening to overtake the maple’s red leaves. October cloud knives Slice branches from saddened trees Leaves fall in mourning Dogs peer at dawn’s sky And slowly don winter coats Knowing geese take flight Tomorrow the snow Will not fall from evening clouds But soon, very soon

    Lou Faber

  • MOTHER

      I called my mother the other day and she did not answer, which she would always do when I called. The dead, I concluded, no longer play by the rules they did when they were still alive. Of course she will call me soon, disrupting my sleep, and chastise me for not trying again.…

    Lou Faber