an old writer and his words

  • PRISONERS

    As we sitin the great metal tubewe imagine ourselvesbirds awaiting the freedomonly the sky offers. The clouds reach downswaddling us and werealize that we haveyet to fledge, likelynever will do so. Peering out the smallwindow, the earth shrinksand grows large again,and as we step out,the birds look at usand feel only pity.

    Lou Faber

  • SHOPPING

    One of the hidden joysof being a vegetarian is thatfor us the grocery store issmaller than it is for many. There is no meat counterto visit, no butcher to engage,and the smell of fish isweaker at even a small distance. I do eat cheese, but notthe sliced sort at the delicounter, I don’t want cheeseshaved…

    Lou Faber

  • A SIMPLE TASK

    You misunderstand me, he said,I did not ask you to write a poemabout a flower, anyone can do that,I asked you to write a poem with a flower. Do not ask me what the poemwill be about, ask the flower, butfirst you must learn to speakthe language of the flowers. If you find this difficult,…

    Lou Faber

  • LUNCH

    The pelican has remarkable patience. It doesn’t hurt that he knows how this will play out. It’s pretty much the same, day after day. That’s life on the jetty. Once the crusty old man is done fishing, once he packs up his cart to leave, he will dump his remaining bait fish on the jetty.…

    Lou Faber

  • CAT’S GAME

    The cat is sleeping on the lanai, on the plant table among the bromeliads. The cat spends hours sleeping on the lanai when she isn’t walking on tables. There are tables on the lanai she walks on regularly. Walking on tables is forbidden we repeatedly tell her and we know she understands, but the cat…

    Lou Faber

  • THE NATURAL KEY TO HEAVEN

    The hawk sits on a branchlooking up at the sky, knowingthis is perfection, lifting upchasing a cloud, floating lazily. The butterfly flits from plantto plant, tasting the fruitsthat nature has given her,perfection in a single moment. The cat sleeps on a rockerthe breeze rustling her coat,until waking for dinnerwhich appears at her request. We spend…

    Lou Faber

  • WASHING OUT

    I wrote down the biggestmistakes I made in lifeon the backs of newly fallenmaple leaves, and carried them,a fair number, to the river. I cast them onto the water,some quickly swept up,a few lingering on a fallentree partially dammingthe flow, waiting for this. Most disappeared asthe water approachedthe falls, cascaded overon its way to the…

    Lou Faber

  • 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

  • CASSANDRA IN FLORIDA

    She is large, and largely immobileand occupies the bench by the roadthat encircles the property like a noose. She does this each day, a crustor more of stale bread tucked awayin a pocket of her always floral housedress that envelopes herand the bench she occupiesas a monarch on her throne. The ibis see her coming…

    Lou Faber

  • WEATHER KARMA

    It never rainedwhen I visited Senso-jiand Todai-ji Temples.I attributed this to goodfortune, the Buddhaclearing the skiesfor my visit.The young monksaid the Buddhacares nothingfor weather, soI should thankthe Japan MeteorologicalAgency although theynever seem to givehim the weatherhe truly wants.

    Lou Faber