an old writer and his words

  • OR

    I can safely say I don’t miss the dayswhen they wheeled you into the operating room,smiling you assumed behind the masks,as you shift from gurney to table, your open gownflapping about like some wind driven flag.You would lie there staring up at the massive lightsthankfully were turned on, blinding you, watchedas they placed the mask…

    Lou Faber

  • BEFORE YOU LEAP

    She always told himthat he should, no must,“look before you leap.” He said he understoodand would do so, almostalways, he was after alla child and no promisecould be that absolute. When he came outof the anesthesia,his arm and legin a cast, he saw herscowling at him. “I did,” he said, “I did,I looked for quite…

    Lou Faber