an old writer and his words

  • HORSING AROUND

    At some point in time I imaginemy mother’s family must’ve hadhorses, or perhaps the ones they sawwere the horses of the locals,an aide when you are conductinga pogram, chasing familiesfrom their homes, into a flight to freedom.Perhaps my family were farmersor merchants in Lithuania, thoughprobably not owning a drugstoreas their children did in CharlstonWest Virginia,…

    Lou Faber

  • NAMASTE

    There was a time, still withinmemory’s ever more tenuous graspthat I imagined myself, at this age,as a monk in a Buddhist templein Kyoto, that I had assumed a silenceimposed by lack of language, not faith. I am certain that the Japaneseare pleased that I let that dreampass unfulfilled, that I confinemy practice to that American…

    Lou Faber

  • CITIZEN OF . . .

    There was a time that nowseems so very long ago, when Iwould freely admit, sometimes claimto be American, if not acknowledgingmy time in the Air Force as well. Those days are gone, as is the placeI knew, now morphed into somewheremuch the same, and entirely unrecognizable,and I am American by proximity, knowingmy welcome has been…

    Lou Faber