an old writer and his words

  • TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT

    I am there, a classroom,elementary or middle school,Charleston, West Virginia1930’s, girls in proper skirts,saddle shoes, the old womanat the front of the room,first day of a new year. “Jones”, a hand goes up,“Murphy”, another rises slowly,“Padlibsky, what kindof name is that, Jew, orsome kind or Ruskie maybe?”A small voice answersLithuanian, ma’am. A scene that neverhappened,…

    Lou Faber

  • STAGED

    At the moment of your birthmy son, I grew suddenly older,mortality became a realitythat I could no longer avoid. You could not imagine this,and I doubt others could seebut I knew and the infinitecollapsed inside the event horizon. Your brother came later, butthat death was incremental,a single cut among thousands,a step on a path you…

    Lou Faber

  • THIS LAND (IS) WAS MY LAND

    I would very much liketo look down from above,unseen by those below,in my country, see the turmoilroiling so many, the linesformed at borders, a queuefor those deemed less valuable,and I wonder where in the linemy ancestors would bewere they still alive.I wonder what lifewould be like if Iwas born in Lithuaniaor if my parents never…

    Lou Faber

  • A PERFECT STILLNESS

    You lie there, perfectly still,the morning breeze slides awayleaving the sun to stare down,and the birds fall into silence.  I gently touch the stone, feelyour cheek beneath my finger,see your face, the college yearbookphoto all that I have of you.  I speak silently to you, tellingof my sixty-seven years, of yourgrandsons and great grandchildrenand I…

    Lou Faber

  • HOME?

    The news, online and on paper,is replete with storiesabout adult children movingback in with their parents,whether because of the pandemic,or other circumstances, alwaysexpecting they willhave a room at the ready. Perhaps it is why wechose to have no spare rooms,sort of a preemptive strikeagainst an ill-conceived return. But as my cohort ages,I wonder if all…

    Lou Faber

  • PERSPECTIVE

    It will soon enough be time again,I am an old clockface on a towerat which no one but the truly boredbother to look, tucked in a cornerof a village half empty, its lifemoved away to places cooler,less stormy. So I sit and watchwhat life remains around me,the few children wishing theycould be elsewhere, some parentswishing…

    Lou Faber

  • MANDATORY, FOR NOW

    They were not optional in our family,once a week, half an hour, that andat least 20 minutes daily, the youngestgot the choice of times. He quit after a year, his sisterwas three years in and went on anotherand I was eight years staringat the 88 keys, so many of whichwould never get used, uselessas were…

    Lou Faber

  • NYE

    As a child, I only wantedto stay up until midnight,actually a bit after that time,to see in the new year. I didn’t need to beat my parents’ party, itwas too loud and the adultsbehaved more like my kidbrother and sister asthe magic moment approached. And it was supposed to bea magical moment, althoughno one could…

    Lou Faber

  • ILL SUITED

    My father wanted to takeme to buy my first suit, saidhe knew a tailor who couldfashion one perfect formy pending Bar Mitzvah,a nice wool blend, he said. Mother about threw a fit.“Take him to the departmentstore or even Goodwill,for God’s sake, he’s onlygoing to wear it once.” My father had learnedthat some battles are bestleft…

    Lou Faber

  • SUDDENLY MORTAL

    I now struggle to remember just whenmy childhood suddenly ended, whenI became mortal, and the childhood fearswere replaced by those of the real world. It might have been watching the news,the planes at Dover disgorging coffinafter coffin, each neatly flag draped untilthe flag became a symbol only of death. It might have been the first…

    Lou Faber