an old writer and his words

  • UNSCRIPTED

    I am so tired of readinglines written for me by othersalways a cold readinglacking emotion and substance.I have my own voice, readyto deliver my soliloquy.I have been livingfor seven decades.But I know that Iwill be seen as yetanother Yorickushered off the stage.And I imaging myselfremembered by someone youngerwho will recall no morethan a passing memory.

    Lou Faber

  • IN PASSING

    There are always eerie momentswhen you learn of the deathof someone you knew brieflyseveral decades before.You struggle to remember allyou can of your interactions,places, events, even conversations.But the departed always seems justas they looked when you lastsaw them hardly older, hardto imagine death has claimedsomeone you see as young,while your mirror constantlyreminds you of how…

    Lou Faber