an old writer and his words

  • ANCESTORS

    He clearly remembers standing on the edge peering down into the almost bottomless canyon, listening to the narrow river slide across the rocks thrown down by its walls over millennia. He was a visitor here, knew he would stay only briefly, then leave, his spirit hiding among the rocks in the nearby mountains, staring down…

    Lou Faber

  • MUSING (4 HAIKU)

    Out the plane window a lake or a sea of clouds Why does it matter?   during an eye blink the butterfly spreads its wings galaxies collapse   Cats curl in furred sleep the moon crawls across the sky a monk awakens   leaves cling to the trees the rivers flow more slowly the stone…

    Lou Faber