an old writer and his words

  • THUMB

    She asks me howI can be so goodat growing plantswhen she hasno luck at all with them. I pause, as if thinking,try and hide the inwardsmile, and respondI just put themin the ground.I don’t tell herthat I also hopethat the rains will comeoften enoughto keep them alive. And I certainlydo not tell her thatwhen they…

    Lou Faber

  • INTO THE SOIL

    When did we stop being of the soil and begin to fear it, to tell our children not to touch the ground, it is dirty when once it was only dirt, and we put it in our mouths, from time to time trying to drive our mothers crazy. She says if you are going to…

    Lou Faber

  • GROWING

    Buddha cares little for the endless prostrations preferring Summer. The sun ignores the Buddha and bows to the greening rice. The grass is growing When we are present to watch Without us — growing.

    Lou Faber