an old writer and his words

  • A PAUSE

    They ride the tides ashoreby the thousands and tens of thousandsnesting lightly on the waiting sand.We stroll the beach struggling for a footingfor which they have no need,stopping frequently to pick one up,look at it carefully and if it passesour completely arbitrary test,pocket it for display at home.We watch the gulls, pelicansand osprey ride the…

    Lou Faber

  • FLOATING, SOARING

    You see them circling in a sun drenched sky,graceful, soaring without expending energy.You know they are vultures, but that thoughtis momentarily lost as you imagine yourselfa wingman to any one of them, freeof the shackles that gravity imposes.One or two land nearby and you pausenow wondering what has died to drawtheir interest, these morticians of…

    Lou Faber

  • WATCH CAREFULLY

    Stand on the edge of the wetlandas the sun sinks slowly on the horizonand the clouds burn a color that waterdoes not recognize at any other time of day.Watch as the flocks of ibis and egretscircle lazily then suddenly diveat odd angles onto desired percheson the bushes awaiting their arrival.The Great Egret standing tallon the…

    Lou Faber

  • AFFIXED

    I can only begin to imaginehow utterly strange I must lookto the Great Blue Heron standingin the wetland behind our home.What must he make of this odd creaturewith thick legs that seemdisproportionately short comparedto their bodies, why their neckshave such limited mobility, whythey cannot look behind themselvesor scratch their chins with their toes.But the birds…

    Lou Faber

  • URBAN DREAMS

    The city crawls beneath youlike so many beasts awakenedin your recent nightmare, skitteringto somewhere you dare not imagine.This is not your city, it could never be,for cities are mere illusions, veneersfor prisons from which few escapeand fewer still are paroled, andyour sentence only ends in your death.Some say cities are beautiful, butyou know they are…

    Lou Faber

  • HABIT

    When you say, she said,that you are a creatureof habit, I have a hardtime imagining you asany sort of nun, or evena monk for that matter. Perhaps, he responded, Ishould emulate KingHenry and start my ownspinoff church, wherethe priestly vestmentswould be jeans and tees. But I would require thatparishioners not weartie dyes on Sunday andCrocs…

    Lou Faber

  • EXTINCT

    You want us to believeyou are small, kind creaturessucking hungrily on the teatof democracy. We see you for whoyou really are, parasiteswho would suck the teatdry until democracywithered and died. Some believe you,accept you blindlybut what will they doif you succeed, for likeany invasive specieswhen the host is gonethere is only mourning.

    Lou Faber

  • ODE TO THE HOUSE CAT

    I have concluded that God created the catin a moment of exhaustion or of extreme pique.How else to explain such a soft fur covered creaturecapable at once of a gentle caress and a clawlunging out at a hand or face deemed too close.Why else this projectile constantly launchedonly at those places it was not to…

    Lou Faber

  • HABITS

    Tonight’s moon will looksimilar to last nights, or sowe assume since the cloudsdenied us that view again. It will be fuller, more plumpless an empty cup, now onealmost full, spilling its lightinto the all too dark sky. If she is hidden again, wewill turn to our imagination,for the moon is a creatureof habit, having learned…

    Lou Faber

  • HOLY ERROR

    If you truly believe that God createdevery creature individually, it is allHis intelligent design, then why the applein the Garden, and why both crocsand alligators, wouldn’t one havebeen sufficient, and why, just whyhave mosquitoes at all, ever? I won’t bother asking why God gaveus free will, since you say He willpunish us if we use…

    Lou Faber