an old writer and his words

  • FOUR HAIKU

    The aging man staresat the passing flock of ducksimagining flight Green Heron looksout over the placid pondsmall fish get nervous Sandhill Cranes watch usstopping to take their picturethey refuse to smile the heat of summerrises off the warming pondducks paddle to shore

    Lou Faber

  • CIRCLING

    This morning as the bellsignaled the end of morning zazenthe whistling ducks took uptheir song, circling the wetlandas if inviting me to photograph them. They quickly grew bored waitingand flew off to a placeI do not know, can not imagine. Perhaps they will returnthis afternoon, circlein a duck like pose as I capturethem with the…

    Lou Faber

  • MY ANNA

    Along the banks of the barge canalin the village park, a manolder, his hair white, almosta mane, sits on the breakwallfeeding Wonder breadto the small flotilla of ducks.Tearing shreds of crustfrom a slice, he casts itonto the water and smilesas they bob for the crumbs.He tells them the storyof his life as thoughthey were his…

    Lou Faber

  • ALONG THE WAY

    They walk slowly, each step measured as to both length and cadence. The need not speak, they have long been synchronous, now cannot avoid being so without great effort. They say nothing, words have grown superfluous, and would only interrupt the slow procession of the clouds, the ducks swimming against the river’s flow, the birds…

    Lou Faber

  • ASKED AND ANSWERED

    Only the ducks remain, and they aren’t saying. Ask a Muscovy where all the ibis have gone and he will say, “good riddance, they’re ugly and get in the way.” Ask of the pelicans  and they will remind you that now there are more fish, and they’ll be back eventually, but things are much calmer…

    Lou Faber

  • A LIFE, LIVED

    The moon, a warm summer night, two ducks, a pond, utter stillness, a mirror weeping, deep purple velvet, a feather racing a leaf across the morning sky, a door swinging, a gate without hinges.

    Lou Faber

  • THREE HAIKU

    an entire flower and a single rose petal duplicate beauty a whole universe exists in a drop of dew life evaporates two crested ducks pay no attention to people offering nothing

    Lou Faber

  • CHAPERONE

    There are three ducks on the pond, two female, one male, and none says anything that is remotely profound. Half a world away, a man carefully parks a truck at the edge of a crowded Baghdad market and walks quickly away. Three ducks swim side by side by side around the pond, every now and…

    Lou Faber