an old writer and his words

  • UNTIL

    I was the adoptee,was the whole for years, until. It is always the untilthat is your undoing, wasmine when sheremarried, then two births. I was one third then, neveragain truly whole and whenshe died I discoveredin her will I was onlyone twentieth, andthen never even that. I want to forget her,forget them, denythem, but all…

    Lou Faber

  • MORNING SKY

    The morning skymaculate with tiny cloudsscattered about the endless blue,denied the promised rain. The wind grew angryhaving nothing to propelthrough the azure emptinessand rifled the trees seeking music. There is nothing to knowon such mornings, no languageneeded or permitted, there is onlythe sky awaiting the sun’s arrival. We are invited to watch,asked to gaze deeply…

    Lou Faber

  • ADIOS, ARRIVADERCI, SO LONG

    As he grew ever older he saidhe wanted a sudden unanticipated death,“In my sleep preferably” he addedwith an unmeant chuckle. It would be a good way to go,I imagine, but it denies thosewho will most mourn his passingthe chance to hope for a miracle. And no matter when it happens,if it is sudden it will…

    Lou Faber