an old writer and his words

  • HORIZON

    He was always lookingto the horizon, as if tomorrowwould provide some small hintof what was to come, knowingthe shadows of yesterday wouldalways be trailing behind him, hisalbatross of unfulfilled dreams.He knew it was a futile searchthat he was wasting his presentfor a future that would arrive on its terms,but compulsions were things hehad been powerless…

    Lou Faber

  • INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY

    It is easier to think about deathon a wintery evening, when so muchof life slips into stasis, and there isnothing to do but concede your mortality,and with good fortune, then slipinto sleep before being lostin a sea of depression. I must be thankful for my dreamsfor they keep the night from becomingthe little death of…

    Lou Faber

  • EVENTIDE

    The sky is the leaden gray that denies the sun and threatens the moon’s arrival. It presses down on the roofs of the tallest buildings, wraps them in a depression those on the street below feel without need of looking up. This is a teasing sky, a drop here, there, until we know we are…

    Lou Faber