an old writer and his words

  • WHERE?

      Is it the trip or the arriving that most matters, or is it simply what you expect once you are there, if there is where you expected, for expectations are too often misplaced and assumptions reflect desire not truth. In the end it hardly matters, for you can never be anywhere but where you…

    Lou Faber

  • BURDEN OF WINTER

    On this one a taste clinging gingerly, on this one clumps, here a variegated blanket. Each tree bears the burden of winter in its own way.

    Lou Faber

  • WINTER TWO VIEWS

    The small dog frolics in the snow — now appearing from, now disappearing into clouds of flakes, while his master stands in the door cursing winter. As the temperature slides below zero, even the snow imagines itself a wave cresting onto a South Florida beach.

    Lou Faber

  • VISIONS

    The small child peers through the bamboo poles of the bridge as he stares down at a turtle who stares up at him with equal fascination. His mother excitedly says, “see the turtle?” Of course he can see the turtle but he also sees an Ichthyosaurus and giant whales and frightening fish. Later, as she…

    Lou Faber

  • EDGE OF WINTER (FOUR HAIKU)

    The clouds build slowly threatening to overtake the maple’s red leaves. October cloud knives Slice branches from saddened trees Leaves fall in mourning Dogs peer at dawn’s sky And slowly don winter coats Knowing geese take flight Tomorrow the snow Will not fall from evening clouds But soon, very soon

    Lou Faber

  • ROYA’S MOUNTAINS AND RIVERS

    If I ask you to look out the window and tell me what is there, what will you say? If you say there are trees and a house in the distance, I will tell you to tell me what is there, not what you mind creates. If you again tell me there are trees and…

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE EDGE

    He says we are getting to the point where we can see almost to the edge of the universe, see the moment when all that we know was created, see gravitational waves cast off by the collision of neutron stars. She says that is all well and good, but why can’t he see that he…

    Lou Faber

  • A MURDEROUS CACOPHONY

    The crows were at it in the park today, unable, it seemed, to agree on anything and unwilling to let any other have the last word. I asked them to stop, and that bought all of fifteen seconds of peace before one decided the debate needed to go on. It was a cacophony hard on…

    Lou Faber

  • WHERE?

      Take the pencil in hand and grasp it firmly and flex and extend your wrist until loose. On a clean sheet of paper mark a small X which will become of great importance shortly. Look around you in all directions, starting as close to yourself as possible and expanding out as far as the…

    Lou Faber

  • THICKNESS OF DAY

    The clouds are thick today, each merging into the next like an ill-woven blanket, stitches dropped, but still not admitting light. None assumes familiar shapes, none require more than a passing glance, though none promise much-needed rain. Today clouds simply cast a pall and we are left to bear their omnipresent reluctance to be of…

    Lou Faber