an old writer and his words

  • WRITING

    I have a Chinese friendwho says I should write poemsabout pomegranates and chrysanthemums.A Japanese business acquaintance sayspoems should be populated by sakura and Lotus.I tend to think of their advicein the deadest days of winterwhen snow presses against the houseas if seeking its faint warmth.As I thinly sliced the tender shootsof bamboo and dampen the…

    Lou Faber

  • HOME, NIGHT

    Living in a bamboo grove, she said,is very much like living in an old house. Look up at noon, into the canopyand imagine you see rays of lightpiercing the ill-thatched roof. Listen to the growling winds of autumnand hear the ghosts of the old housemaking their way up creaking stairs. And when you truly find…

    Lou Faber

  • GROVE

    Living in a bamboo grove, she said, is very much like living in an old house. Look up at noon, into the canopy and imagine you see rays of light piercing the ill-thatched roof. Listen to the growing winds or autumn and hear the ghosts of the old house making their way up creaking stairs.…

    Lou Faber

  • SHINKANSEN VIEW

    At first it was a checkerboard of ponds neatly arrayed, reflecting the sun, the work of man, for God so rarely plays geometrician with creation, less often still using right angles. Soon enough green blades reach up through the shirred surface, random, reaching for a sun they can never touch. It is a field soon,…

    Lou Faber