an old writer and his words

  • CRANING

    I wait patiently for the wingsto move, as though attachedto a butterfly slowly emergingfrom her too brief chrysalis home.I want to feel the air shiftever so gently as shelifts into a cloudless sky.I want to marvel atthe grace she showsswooping overhead,then alighting once again.But I am no God,no origami masterand so my cranes sitwith their…

    Lou Faber

  • STONE

    Off the pier in Santa Barbara a young child throws a stone into the quiet ocean. Later an imperceptible wave slips quietly into Yokohama harbor. In Big Sur a Monarch butterfly slips from her chrysalis on tentative gossamer wings and takes flight. Later, still,  I stand on the Boston Commons and cast a momentary smile.

    Lou Faber