an old writer and his words

  • SHEPHERDING

    Today I paused to considerhow odd it must be for thoseborn, bred and always livingin a city, say New York, andto sill be a lover of poetry.So many poets, from Keatsto Hirshfield will take youinto nature, bathe you in wordsbeneath a star lit sky, sit youin a meadow, breathing airthat has never known the exhaustof…

    Lou Faber

  • PARKING

    It is the difference I always noticebetween small and large cities: the parks. When you sit deeply withinBoston Commons or Central Parkyou can feel the city alwaysthreatening to encroach andonce again make you its prisoner,smell and hear the city, trafficand trucks rumbling, hornsplayed in a cacophonous symphony. In small cities you can sit in a…

    Lou Faber

  • CITY OF FORGOTTEN

    The lake in Central Park and its cousin rivers reflect the gray of a cold sky, an April afternoon. None of this is seen by the multitudes traversing the streets and avenues, a people who barely remember the sky.

    Lou Faber