an old writer and his words

  • “Geography”

    People of the mountainare quiet, some say taciturnpreferring to listen for the cryof the eagle, wind whistlingits familiar tune through a passsnow rent from the facetearing down in a crystalline cloud. People of the shoremerge with the songof the waves, feel its tempopunctuated by the barkof the whale, the hornanchored in the harbor,the tavern disgorgingits…

    Lou Faber

  • ABSOLUTION

    The birds in the wetlandspeak to me in my dreams,telling tales of what this placewas before we arrivedand forever changed it. They don’t curse us, althoughthey remind us we are cursedby our own actions, butthey do pity us, ground boundliving in our own waste. In the morning the birdshave disappeared, a fewvultures carrying off the…

    Lou Faber

  • FINALLY FALLING

    Outside the snow finally falls and presses the last fallen Maple leaves into the ground free, for now from the rake. Outside the snow finally falls and for a few hours November is redeemed and my shoes are suddenly inadequate even on the half plowed road. Outside the snow finally falls and the full moon…

    Lou Faber