an old writer and his words

  • TOO SOON

    The leaves will soon begintheir descent from the small tree,already brown, their beautydeparting before they do so. They are bilobular, an odd word,but one that belongs in a poem,even this one it seems, and it istheir shape that you first notice. The tree will all to soon be naked,branches sticking into the airas if searching…

    Lou Faber

  • R.I.P.

    We are planning the funeralfor Roe today, eulogiesfully ready, for we are certainthe death was slow and painfuland now all we can do is mourn. Some we know will not attend,Brown out of fear, knowingthe eventual consequencesof this loss, Miranda becausehe is already marked, houndedby those in power, an easy mark. Sullivan may be there,…

    Lou Faber

  • COFFEE ROASTING

    They dance defiantly denying gravity as they tumble through the air. They cede their color reluctantly, Now a beige, but soon a defiant chocolate-brown, milk turning slowly dark. They entice you, their perfume perhaps too strong for some, but it draws you in and you cannot help but imagine how the thought of them will…

    Lou Faber