an old writer and his words

  • A PERFECT STILLNESS

    You lie there, perfectly still,the morning breeze slides awayleaving the sun to stare down,and the birds fall into silence.  I gently touch the stone, feelyour cheek beneath my finger,see your face, the college yearbookphoto all that I have of you.  I speak silently to you, tellingof my sixty-seven years, of yourgrandsons and great grandchildrenand I…

    Lou Faber

  • WAITING IMPATIENTLY

    Waiting rooms are usually somber.That is true of most hospitalsand every mortuary. It isn’t like we needto be prepared for whatmight happen next. In the hospital the surgeon,at the direction of lawyers,has given us the worst case. In the mortuary we are certainthe departed was no saintso resurrection is out of the picture. I’m not…

    Lou Faber

  • ADIOS, ARRIVADERCI, SO LONG

    As he grew ever older he saidhe wanted a sudden unanticipated death,“In my sleep preferably” he addedwith an unmeant chuckle. It would be a good way to go,I imagine, but it denies thosewho will most mourn his passingthe chance to hope for a miracle. And no matter when it happens,if it is sudden it will…

    Lou Faber

  • THE TIE’S LAMENT

    I still have the tieI wore to m grandmother’sfuneral, one I conducted,but the suit from that dayis long gone, and just as well,for it would be several sizestoo large for the present me. I’ve only worn the tie oncesince that rainy day in Marylandand then to a weddingto balance out the sadnesswith a bit of…

    Lou Faber

  • THE WALL

    The wall is black granite, highly polished be an unseen hand and the fingers of countless thousands present but each unseen by the others. At first glance you want to count the names, but you lack fingers enough for the task and others are quickly withdrawn as are their eyes. You know where the names…

    Lou Faber

  • AN AVIAN MESSAGE

    The birds departed one morning which we believe may be how they express displeasure, although the destruction of the nests and the death of the children by predators may have had something to do with the departure. We wait patiently for their return, the wetland still dry, but we hope with the wet season that…

    Lou Faber

  • NEVER, STILL

    I know what you did not tell them,that much I could learn for myself,but what did you tell them? I knowyou were full figured, I think thatis the acceptable term, once it wasReubenesque, but someonemust have noticed something. Maybe those at work, sitting at theirterminals didn’t notice, you cameand went, few friendships perhaps,but you were…

    Lou Faber

  • STATISTIC

    Today, now many,yesterday, tomorrow, how many? We have grown tired of countingthe mind cannot deal with numbersof that magnitude, Stalin was correct,it is all statistics now, and bodies,always more bodies, never enough,always too many, by violencein the street, in the economy,in the courthouse, in the COVID ward,there are too many places now,where the dead gather,…

    Lou Faber

  • THE HOUSE ON PEABODY

    It was brick, red I am told.on a quiet street not farfrom 16th Street and its traffic.It was small, but a good homefor a couple with a child or twoin the heart of the District. I have no recollection of it,save the tile, black and whitein the bathroom, the radiatoron which I hit my head,and…

    Lou Faber

  • DYBBUK

    The evening slowly entersWarsaw — along Aleje Solidarnoscia lumbering truck backfires — some old onescringe — thoughts collapsing — into rail cars — lighteningbolts on stiff black wool uniforms — polished jackboots —a wrought iron gate — Arbeit Macht Frei The evening slowly entersWarsaw along Aleje Solidarnoscia truck backfires a sudden flockof sierpowka Eurasian Collared…

    Lou Faber