an old writer and his words

  • MARCH APPROACHING (HAIKU)

    Winter dies slowly under the jay’s watchful eye harbinger of spring. The ghosts of winter hide behind the Sun, the hawk hears them. Frail pink petals fall onto slowly warming earth the winter concedes.

    Lou Faber

  • HAWKING AUTUMN

      The hawks have been circling more frequently of late, but in the early autumn laziness of merely riding the breezes that seem to pick up in the mornings, before the midday sun bids them be calm so it can make its transit. By afternoon, they tend to roost high up in the giant pines,…

    Lou Faber

  • HAWKING SANITY

    I am not the least bit certain why the red-tailed hawk chose that lamppost that day and peered down over the Expressway. Nature has her own logic and we question it at our own risk. Staring into his flaming eyes, for one small moment we both saw the foolishness rolling by below and alongside us.

    Lou Faber

  • HAWK

    A red tailed hawk watches carefully from the tall pine that stands proud in the next yard. It is not clear for what he is watching, perhaps it is nothing at all, or something my human vision cannot discern. I stare at him, but he does not return my stare, and after some time lifts…

    Lou Faber

  • FLOWING

      A young man stands on the bank a river and sees the water toppling over and around uncaring stones. Halfway up the slope of the great mountain an old man steps from his small hut looks down at a hawk circling the river, watching for the glint of a passing salmon. From its aerie…

    Lou Faber