an old writer and his words

  • A MOMENT

    A night of broken dreams,a day of trembling handsminutes of knocking kneeswearing a path into an alreadyaging and worn wooden deck.A moment of sight,a moment when time stoppedand words failed, paralyzedby fear, by beauty, by a smile.A meal prattling on, tryingto see signs, not knowing whatthose signs might be.Twenty-three years of a joyI hadn’t known…

    Lou Faber

  • CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

    Walking back through my lifeI can now begin to see when and wherethings changed, where I changed, wherethe place I thought of as my homebecame alien, altered, as thoughthe weathering of time wore awaywhat I now know were carefully appliedveneers, real enough seeming to meand to others who stopped to visit.And when the music changed…

    Lou Faber

  • PHOTOGRAPHER

    Photographers we know are struggling,the wedding business has dried up, dessicatedby the years of the pandemic, the tighteningof matrimonial cost belts, no doubt other reasons.Wedding photography is hard on both the coupleand those with fingers on the shutter button.I cannot remember by first wedding, the marriageitself thankfully fading as well with the freedomof time, the…

    Lou Faber

  • EXPOSURE

    Now we choose to love in the dark,our minds unwilling to see whatour bodies now so willingly expose.It is not that our passion has wanedor abated, only that it has elongatedand our concept of time must be suspended .The mind now must concedeto the heart for it understandswhat the body can no longer do.Maturity allows…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL WAITING

    We have been waiting for herbut she is again reluctant to appearand this night chooses to hidebehind a veil of gossamer clouds.How often has she turned her back on us,allowing us only a passing glimpseand still we always await her, for sheis our inamorata and we feelsomehow incomplete in her absence.She know that she will…

    Lou Faber

  • GONE STILL

    Gone21 yearsstill lookingas you did81 years agoin the Morris HarveyCollege yearbookand that is how,and only how,you will everlook to memother. Thatand the tombstoneon which I criedthree years agowhen we metfor the first time.

    Lou Faber

  • THIS IS WHAT IT IS

    It happened unexpectedly,but then perhaps it always happensunexpectedly, though in my firstthirty year effort it never fully happenedand its momentary flickerswere no more than quickly fading embers.This time it happened early on,arrived without warning, thentook up residence and broughtwith it a silence where breathsgrew synchronous and words,our stock in trade, were renderedsuperfluous, synapses magically linked.And…

    Lou Faber

  • A PASSION

    I don’t know just whatmoment it was when wantingbecame desire, wishingblazed into passion butfor nothing in particular,so if I found it I mightwell not know what I had.None of this was lovemuch was likely delusion,but passion consumes logicand returns only ashes.I am older now, passionhas grown softer aroundit’s edges, but it remainsconsuming like a fine…

    Lou Faber

  • MEMORY

    She regularly visits the cemetery,sits for hours on the little folding stoolshe brings with her, at his gravesiteand reminisces with him over momentsof joy and sadness they had shared.Once a year she brings flowerswhich she leaves in the small pot.When she planted them in the soilbut would find them dead by her next visit.She wondered…

    Lou Faber

  • LURKING

    You lurk behind meas I sit at the islandboth the messenger and the message.You appear magicallyon my chair back, your tailwrapping my neck, a mink like scarfregardless of the temperature.I hear a slowly growing rumbleas if with my ear to the groundI can sense a distant temblor.And then there is the flickof dampened sandpaper on…

    Lou Faber