an old writer and his words

  • AN OLD FRIEND

    More than a bit ratty, would be mildly putting it, near bald almost everywhere, fully so in far too many spots to count. Eyelashes are minimal, hard to see for their fineness, one eye a bit out of focus, a faint cloud covering its internal horizon. You might say it is sad looking, and no…

    Lou Faber

  • DE GUSTIBUS

    As the last of the wine glasses is put back on the shelf the Brut recorked and the dishes set in the tray to dry we take a slow walk after the meal hoping the arrabiatta sauce will be less angry, the pasta less weighty, when we arrive back home to the sofa and the…

    Lou Faber

  • PRAYER

    We bow our heads and utter words not to the cicada speaking through a spring night or the beetle crawling slowly across the leaf searching for the edge. We bid the crow silent, the cat mewling his hunger, just to crawl under a porch awaiting morning, the child to sleep. The stream flows slowly by,…

    Lou Faber

  • EVER SO BRIEFLY (3 HAIKU)

    listen carefully to the sound of the great bell before being struck cat stares at Buddha pigeons flock to ignore him people see nothing there is no city inside the large gate, only Buddha and pigeons

    Lou Faber

  • FINALLY FALLING

    Outside the snow finally falls and presses the last fallen Maple leaves into the ground free, for now from the rake. Outside the snow finally falls and for a few hours November is redeemed and my shoes are suddenly inadequate even on the half plowed road. Outside the snow finally falls and the full moon…

    Lou Faber

  • ON AGING

    Ensconced on the couch, the cat hears a bird singing outside the window. Once, she would have pressed her face against the screen, imagining a great chase. Now she listens, content to let the birds sing into the fading sun.

    Lou Faber

  • APPROACHING WINTER

    We are in the season of stasis where nothing wants to move and nothing should shed the mantle of snow that has announced winter’s arrival in terms we full understand, as do the finches clinging to the feeder casting nervous glances skyward. The neighbor’s cat has decided that the remote chance of catching a bird…

    Lou Faber

  • URBANITY

    Walking down this road I would like to see a rice field golden in the morning sun with a great mountain rising behind it just around the next bend. I would settle for a town its lone Temple quiet, awaiting the morning bell, the call to sit, with maybe a cat at the base of…

    Lou Faber

  • CORNFLOWER

    This morning, as I do most mornings, I took my paints and painted the sky blue. Today for some reason, I opted for Cornflower, it seemed to fit my mood and the neighbors cat, after considering it for a few moments seemed to agree with my choice, though she suggested tomorrow might be better served…

    Lou Faber

  • MU

    If you ask me whether a dog has buddha nature I will stare back at you in total silence. If you ask again, or implore an answer I will smile at you, offer gassho and a bow. If you ask yet again, I will turn away and you will be left with a box into…

    Lou Faber