an old writer and his words

  • FOUR HAIKU

    At night’s marginsdreams may ferry you acrossrivers of doubt Paper boatsfloat slowly down riversof deep felt hopes Paper lanternsslowly carry awayancestral spirits A thousand craneslift into a scarlet skyand chase the sun

    Lou Faber

  • MORNING

    one thousand fingers gently fold one thousand cranes our tears are countless. red sandstone plateaus coyote stalks through scrub pine chindi howl assent in the Norway Spruce pine cones threaten to descend. Squirrels sit waiting.

    Lou Faber

  • A SOUTHERN WINTER (HAIKU)

    In the dark of night clouds gavotte across the sky we awake to rain There is no snow here – we dream of Fujiyama imagine winter. A thousand cranes rise take wing over the city smiling at the sun.

    Lou Faber

  • FLIGHT

    One thousand cranes take flight and there is a sudden silence as the cat stares up, bidding them farewell. We barely stop to notice, despite the rainbow of colors replacing the clouds, even the sun seeming to pause in wonder. Two thousand hands made this happen, one person, unrelenting, knowing anything less would be nothing…

    Lou Faber

  • THREE HAIKU

    Giant cranes are perched on thin spindly legs, necks bowed steel beams scratch the clouds. Needle-like church spires reach through the gathering mist clouds begin to bleed. Walls stand in the field one stone piled on another grass withers in shade.

    Lou Faber

  • WITHOUT BEES

    In the photograph the two great blue heron’s stare at each other. We are not certain if this is love, or there is something far more ominous impending. Birds have a way of being inscrutable, and herons are often mistaken for cranes, although I cannot imagine a senbazuru of herons. In the photo, their beaks…

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO SCENES (PART 2)

    Scene 1 From atop the Century Hyatt Shinjuku Chuo Park is a desolate maze of asphalt, its fountains stilled by winter. The horizon is dotted by the cranes, great and small, perched precariously engaged in their manic dance bending and swooping in defiance of the gods. Scene 2 Shinjuku Station is washed by the waves of…

    Lou Faber

  • AWAKENING

    He could not hope to remember how he got there, he had wandered in search of nothing in particular, save dinner as his hunger grew, but in Shinjuku you needn’t read Japanese since the menus sat molded in plastic in the window of even the smallest restaurants. He began to look more intently when he…

    Lou Faber