an old writer and his words

  • A PAUSE

    They ride the tides ashoreby the thousands and tens of thousandsnesting lightly on the waiting sand.We stroll the beach struggling for a footingfor which they have no need,stopping frequently to pick one up,look at it carefully and if it passesour completely arbitrary test,pocket it for display at home.We watch the gulls, pelicansand osprey ride the…

    Lou Faber

  • FLOATING, SOARING

    You see them circling in a sun drenched sky,graceful, soaring without expending energy.You know they are vultures, but that thoughtis momentarily lost as you imagine yourselfa wingman to any one of them, freeof the shackles that gravity imposes.One or two land nearby and you pausenow wondering what has died to drawtheir interest, these morticians of…

    Lou Faber

  • FIVE BIRDS

    The cold winter breezepalm fronds shivering at dawnegrets remain still a thousand birds landengage in conversationa foreign language arriving at duskwhite ibis strive to decidewho is the alpha the cat sits watchingthe sandhill crane approachesthey speak to each other a single ibisstruts across newly mown lawnsdinner now awaits

    Lou Faber

  • KASSAN’S SLASHING SWORD

    Which path will you walkin trying to find enlightenment?How can you know ifit is the correct path?When you sit and contemplatethis do you take a mental broomand attempt to sweepthe dust of thoughtsinto a corner, thus leavingroom for the Buddha, or doyou let the breeze of practicecarry the dust away? A reflection on Case 68…

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO SNAPSHOTS

    In the small yardof the matchbox housethe lone Ginkgotwisted by timefeels the barrennessof winter’s tongueand mournsits solitude. The apartment building looms upover the tracks of the Narita Expressthe balconies are deserted, savefor the laundry which flapsin the morning breeze,slapping with the gustsinto the small satellite dishesbolted to the railings. The ancient trees are twistedand gnarled,…

    Lou Faber

  • ELAPSED TIME

    Time measured outin a slow twistingof a fork, pitchedinto day’s heartbleeding heatas pulses fade.Tequila breezeblows acrossthe verandahpalms rustlingto rhythms of lifebodies snatchedcarried off, placesunseen, unimagined.Wings float upliftedher face in sleepserene, feline.Night’s morphine dripedges into sleepdreams of her touchcloses eyesto phoenix’s ascension. First published in The Berlin Literary Review, Issue 01, May 2023https://theberlinliteraryreview.com/issue-one/

    Lou Faber

  • WIDOWER

    In the cold nightof another winterhe stares outacross the barren fieldswhich have long forgottenthe taste of the sun.He watches carefullyfor a signbut the naked branchdenies the breeze.He remembershow it once wasin the heatof the dying firethe sweetness of her lipslingering on his tongue.She is gone, has beenso long, her faceis hiddenby the gauzy veilof time.He…

    Lou Faber

  • SHHHHHH

    Step outsidelisten carefullyto the morning breezehear its songenjoying itsilentlylips not movingyour voicea chorus.

    Lou Faber

  • EPITAPH FOR ANOTHER DAY

    When I write the storyof my life, it will not beme standing by the seastaff in hand, waitingfor the waters to part.It will be sand, endlessseas of sand, piledaround my feet.I will not recount ten plaguesfor there is only onethat matters at alland it was notterribly exciting,no generation perished,we weren’t overrunwith frogs or verminsave the…

    Lou Faber

  • BUSINESS SUITS

    “What do you think is the likelihoodof success in the long run,” she asks,and I watch the fly land on my forearm,perched on hairs that barely bend under his inconsequential weight.His wings are a perpetual twitch,almost unseen, and felt only as a faintbreeze in my imagination, while a world is created, a reality collapses, a…

    Lou Faber