an old writer and his words

  • ETA

    So many of the late arrivals tonightare egrets, the Cattles long inamong the reeds and brush sharingspace, only reluctantly, with the ibis. It is their snowy cousins who arriveas the horizon is a fading bandof orange gold dissipating under thefaint, unyielding eye of Venus,and seem shocked when theyare turned away with flap of wingand cry,…

    Lou Faber

  • WINTER

    As I stare out the window and watchthe snow slowly build on the limbsof the now barren crab apple, paintingit with a whiteness that bears heavily,giving the smaller branches a betterview of the ground in which theirfruit of the summer lies buried. I am forced to wonder if the treecontinues to watch me, if its…

    Lou Faber

  • STEPPING

    I know I should find a riverand just sit on its banksand stare at the water flowing I don’t have to step in it onceto know I couldn’t step in twiceif I wanted, so that problem’s solved. And with dry feet, I can walkalong its banks with a bit morejaunt in my step, which should…

    Lou Faber

  • FOUR HAIKU

    the morning dew smilesthe rising sun stares deeplylater a merger the egret stands fixedwishing he was a statuethe rippling pond laughs clouds blacken the skythe sun plays hide and go seekwe watch patiently. winter is lurkingbut swaying palms reject itit retreats northward

    Lou Faber

  • HOME, NIGHT

    Living in a bamboo grove, she said,is very much like living in an old house. Look up at noon, into the canopyand imagine you see rays of lightpiercing the ill-thatched roof. Listen to the growling winds of autumnand hear the ghosts of the old housemaking their way up creaking stairs. And when you truly find…

    Lou Faber

  • HOLY

    The sun slowly climbsup onto the mountain’s minaretand announces the call to prayer.The waves in the quiet Lakedip their heads watching treeswith the reverence reserved for morning.The loon sits on the altarand intones the sermon, the wavesstilling for a moment, then ebbing into the day.

    Lou Faber

  • STARING

    He liked nothing betterthen to sit outsidehis small cottageand stare into the pondonce the blaze on the waterset by the sun was consumedas fire must always be by water.As night deepened, he staredinto the sky, seeing the moonslowly rise, chasing alongthe sun’s now deserted path.He knew the myriad of starsshared his interest, staringbut he abandoned…

    Lou Faber

  • ASK OF THE SEA

    When you ask me of the sea,living, as I do, fifteen milesfrom the nearest ocean, itis not the sandy beachesof Hutchinson Island I recall,nor the crowded sandboxthat is Fort Lauderdale’s beach. If you ask me of the sea,it is perched on the horizon,far in the distance, lookingout of the kitchen window,or perhaps that of the…

    Lou Faber

  • EVEN HERE

    As winter closes in around us,even here, the Great Blue Heronsgo about building a nest,inviting us to watch as theymake a home of gatheredbranches and twigs, obliviousto the state of our world,of the pandemic gripping us. We watch respectfully, knowingthat in this darkest of seasons,we are about to witnessour own little miracle and willsoon bear…

    Lou Faber

  • ABIDING

    The dawning sun brings forth the birds’morning chorus, their song glidesthrough the windows, no wordsare needed, their meaning heardand through it all, morning simply abides. We are left to shelter within, to girdourselves against the unseen tidethat has washed over us undeterred,rendered all once normal absurdand through it all, morning simply abides. We cannot change…

    Lou Faber