an old writer and his words

  • FOUR WETLAND HAIKU

    Apple Snail shellbleached by the sun, emptyhappy Snail Kite Great Egret sitting stillwaiting, simply waitingthen flying off Red-shouldered hawkstaring into the distanceendless patience Pig frog croakingbut the moon will not answerwe fall asleep

    Lou Faber

  • HABITS

    Tonight’s moon will looksimilar to last nights, or sowe assume since the cloudsdenied us that view again. It will be fuller, more plumpless an empty cup, now onealmost full, spilling its lightinto the all too dark sky. If she is hidden again, wewill turn to our imagination,for the moon is a creatureof habit, having learned…

    Lou Faber

  • ABSURD, FL

    The utter and complete absurdityof living in Florida canbe ever so easily illustrated. Last evening the neighbor’sdog decided it neededto express itself and did soin clear and loud terms. The limpkins and gallinulesin the wetland behindboth our homes shouted backand based on my admittedlylimited vocabulary of birdthere were several fourletter words and at least oneupraised…

    Lou Faber

  • APPROACHING NIGHT

    Arising into nightthe departing suntangos away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten. Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods. Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian casts’ final bows takenthe theater will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it…

    Lou Faber

  • FIVE HAIKU

    The dawn cedes slowlyto the impinging sunlightbirds greet the new day The great egret liftsher wings embracing the cloudthe winter sun smiles on the barren branchthe red-shouldered hawk awaitsher mate and the sun sandhill cranes wanderalong the shore of the lakelooking for nothing the moon is a cupwaiting for night to fill itvenus sits empty

    Lou Faber

  • STRING QUARTET

    The violinists’ laughter and tearsare flung from her flying bow,drip from his elbow,and wash over the stilled audience –we can taste the seaas we threaten to capsize. The viola is the older brothernow steadying, now caughtin the wave, ridingits dizzying course,dragging us in its wake. The cello is a torso, the cellista surgeon, her handsplucking…

    Lou Faber

  • HE WHO LAUGHS LAST

    The moon was kind enoughto linger this morning,knowing that I wanteda photograph, and thatI needed sufficient ambientlight to allow meto fully capture her visage.Sometimes she rises earlyand shows her facebefore the sun retreats.I suppose it may justbe vanity on the moon’s part,showing off for her brightersibling, certain I will neverpause to photograph Sol.Tomorrow it will…

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN KNOWS

    His extended wingsmomentarily block the sunsetting his feather tips ablaze.His vermillion talons graspthe waiting branch threateningto break it from the treeunless is bends to his will.His curved beak archesagainst an orange skyholding tightly tothe retreating sun.I can only watcha majestic momentand believe that somewherethe must be a Godfor nature alone could notconceive of a creatureof…

    Lou Faber

  • SITTING WATCHING

    Of course when we livedup north we wouldn’thave imagined this, sittingon our lanai watching the sunset the patchy sky ablazesipping small glasses of portand wondering if a lightjacket might be in order,as the beaver moonof November waxes slowly. The cat, curled at our feetcannot imagine the icy windhowling down the street,the foreboding clouds offeringtheir first…

    Lou Faber

  • LIONEL HAMPTON AND THE GOLDEN MEN OF JAZZ

    Blue Note, pardonour constructionblack paintedplasterboarda hangingair conditioning duct. Grady Tatesneering at the skinsgrowling at a high hathands shiftingdeftly reaching inpicking a beatand sliding itover the crowd. Jimmy Woodeblind to the lightsslides his fingersover stringsand talks to the bassresting on his shoulder.It sings backbegging , pleadingdemanding as his headsways with an inner vision. Junior Mancesways slowly…

    Lou Faber