an old writer and his words

  • A VISIT

    I used to say that my birth parents,both dead before I could give them names,her youthful face from yearbooks,come to me now in my dreams.Of course that isn’t true, theydid not come to me in my dreamsdespite my hollow invitationsso I went to them, for they no longertravel very much, preferring to stayin their well-maintained…

    Lou Faber

  • ONCE A HOME

    They arrived again as the sunprepared for impending departure.The wetland is verdant and smallan area the developer reluctantlyset aside for nature, not knowingor caring that the birds who oncecalled this whole area home,a thousand and more each eveningare now crowded into this aviantenement, gone are their spacious homesgiven over to ours, but the birds knowwhen…

    Lou Faber

  • EXTINCTION

    The days are shorteningas they should, going forwardon their slow march from equilibrium.The birds arrive and leaveas they should, caring nothingfor clocks or calendars, merelyreading the sky and weather.They know their worldis changing, hotter daysand nights and the stormsthey must outfly growingever stronger, more dangerous.They know that we are the cause,our greed, our arrogance,and they…

    Lou Faber

  • MEMORY

    She regularly visits the cemetery,sits for hours on the little folding stoolshe brings with her, at his gravesiteand reminisces with him over momentsof joy and sadness they had shared.Once a year she brings flowerswhich she leaves in the small pot.When she planted them in the soilbut would find them dead by her next visit.She wondered…

    Lou Faber

  • ATONEMENT

    Someone said that with each breathyou take you are inhaling atomsthat Einstein once inhaled, andif that is true you are also inhalingatoms that Stalin and Hitler inhaled.But extend that logic, when youwalk the old cities of Europe,and particularly those near wherethe Nazis built their camps, pausefor a long moment and ask yourselfon whose ashes you…

    Lou Faber

  • IN PASSING

    As we walk along the shoreof the man-made lakein the planned community’s “town,”the birds array themselvesin a ragged single fileas I pass and I imagined eachlooks up at me posing.Once I would’ve stopped,raised my camera, capturedthem, or their facsimilebut those days are donefor I no longer blog themone thousand posts gone byand my back and…

    Lou Faber

  • A RUNG TOO HIGH

    He is fully stuck on the hornsof a dilemma from which hecan see no way to extricate himself.He needs to get up on the roofand patch the hole beforethe storm shortly arrives full force.The old wooden ladder that hasbeen lying along the sideof the house is far too heavy for himto maneuver into position and…

    Lou Faber

  • CLOCKWORK

    Deep within the cosmic corethe celestial horologist tinkers,bending time into wormholesas the stars stare, muted.We are oblivious, strain to seeour place amid endless expansion.We accelerate blindly, unknown,unknowing where we are,where is could be at thismoment, at any moment,caught up in the temporal tide,a never yielding riverin which we inevitably drown.We swim against time’s tide,a futile…

    Lou Faber

  • FINAL MOMENT

    You would think that thosewith an abiding faith in an afterlifewould approach the transitionto death without fear, merely a stepinto a promising, promised unknown.And perhaps some do take this approachbut many, it seems, when the abyss opensbefore them and there is no going backexpress the moment of fear, of terror,thoughts reserved to the nonbelievers.Of course…

    Lou Faber

  • A TIME ONCE

    There was a time when wewould go to the desert or shore.Now the desert comes to usand we know the oceanwill arrive not far behind it.We learned to shape our world,mold it to our desires, perceived wants.The world has grown weary of ustinkerers never satisfied, moreour watchword, enough forgotten.Now it demands that weacceed t o…

    Lou Faber