an old writer and his words

  • WINTER, AGAIN

    The snow began falling this morning the dry, almost greasy snow that defies the plows running up and down the streets, too shallow for the salters to begin. Cars slide to a stop, or nearly so, at the intersection, and you know it is merely a matter of time before two will simultaneously, and there…

    Lou Faber

  • ALTERNATIVES

    I would much rather be home, listening to Joan Osborne on the CD player, lying on the couch with you sleeping across the sofa curled under the cotton throw coiled against the winter battering the windows ca tucked into your knees. Instead, I sit on the bed CNN droning in the background and stare out…

    Lou Faber

  • ENVELOPING

    The night wraps us in the faint light of the glowing moon. The snow falls, reflected in the street light’s glow, and settles on the snow fields of recent days that obscure the earth that suffers beneath. We will flee tomorrow and leave the snow in our wake, hoping that on our return a week…

    Lou Faber

  • TIME ERODES

    The house is suddenly empty standing alone on a stark barren lot. The old drapes are drawn tight and little light enters, but there is no one there to see it. Every once in a while there is a rattle, a creaking, and you expect someone to appear in one of the now dark windows,…

    Lou Faber

  • WITH THE GREATEST CARE

    She looks carefully, not wanting the others to know what she sees, for she needs her secrets. She wanders over, the others follow totally unaware she has a goal, that she will not be satisfied until she attains it, and that she has a determination that would give them pause and no small measure of…

    Lou Faber

  • INTO THE SOIL

    She wants to know if I want to her gloves while planting so I don’t get dirt deep in my skin and under my nails. There is no way I can explain to her there is a certain joy in placing my fingers into the just wet soil, in moving it with my hands, squeezing…

    Lou Faber

  • FALLS

    The water pours endlessly, relentlessly over the lip, cascading into the gorge the mist rising, engulfing the rim of the falls, swallowing whole the small island, that will be eaten by the river over the next centuries. We sit in the comfort of our room, watching as if this was a movie, the water in…

    Lou Faber

  • JIZO’S FLOWER

    When you see a painting of a beautiful rose, how can you describe it. You must breathe deeply of its sweet fragrance Be careful, do not pierce your finger on its waiting thorns. The rose has withered into dust before your mouth is opened. A reflection on Case 76 of the Iron Flute Koans

    Lou Faber

  • ONCE, ONCE

    Once, not long ago, a river meandered through our town. Actually, there was never a river here, and our town is really a small and shrinking city. But the wistful look on your face when I mentioned the river is reason enough to have one. So now I have to move somewhere in Connecticut or…

    Lou Faber

  • How Is It!

    I can never fully comprehend iwhy they never seem able to see things from my perspective, it really isn’t the all that hard. After all, they claim to know me better than I know myself. Today they never ask if I liked what they chose to serve me, why I left the food, sometimes? Today…

    Lou Faber