an old writer and his words

  • IN HIDING

    What is it she is hiding so assiduouslythat she always shields one face whilefreely offering the one we already know.And why all the coming and going, whynot just be like her cousins, alwayspresent until the final moment and thenmaking a grand exit for all to see.She knows she pulls on us, on ouremotions, we mark…

    Lou Faber

  • MAGIC MIRROR ON THE WALL

    The face in the mirror this morningwas not mine, perhaps it wasthat of my grandparents, allI never met, having onlyold and faded pictures that vaguelyresemble the mirror’s face. It might be my parents, bothdead before I found them onlyyearbook pictures and just possiblea vague similarity to the facethat i see in the mirror each day.…

    Lou Faber

  • STARS

    Once the winter starswrapped in their cloudy shroudshed frozen tears, unwillingto come out of hiding.We searched for them in vain,knowing our failure,retreating to the warmthof home, only to repeatthe failed effort on somany other nights. Now, here, the winter starsare usually fearless,some drowned by the moon,but she waxes and wanesand they reappear, the brightestnever fearing…

    Lou Faber

  • ALIVE IN THE NIGHT

    I walked the cityin the heart of the night,street lights casting the shadowsof ghosts of those long goneto bed, unknowingthat the city has beengiven over to ravening windsthat find no shelter. I step into an alcoveand the fading lightof the flickering bulb overheadurges me to move onlest she bury mein the darkness of her grave.…

    Lou Faber

  • SOCKING MEMORY

    It appears unexpectedlylike a sock from behind the dryerlong after its matehas been discarded or converted to rag.You have looked for itever since it went missingand knowing the way of socksand their hiding placesthe dryer was one of the firstplaces you looked for it.Memories are much like socksnow and again running offand hiding, leaving half…

    Lou Faber

  • IN SEARCH OF

    The cat stares down from her new perch atop the living room bookcase. She watches us move about, wondering where she might be. She can tell we are getting increasingly frantic in our search as she is new here, and we are adapting to each other still. We look behind everywhere she might hide, but…

    Lou Faber

  • A MESSAGE HOME

    What I want to tell her is this: it’s fitting, perfectly, that you who so assiduously hid the past from me, your past and mine, now bars your entry, refusing you even the briefest glimpse. You want so to grab onto it to have it carry you to a place removed from here by time…

    Lou Faber

  • CRAFTY MOON

    The moon hid from me last night in a cloudless sky, and only a week from full, so we both knew it was there, peeking for a brief moment from behind the old oak in the neighbors yard. It wasn’t the first time the moon had done this, it will not be the last either,…

    Lou Faber

  • EVE OF ENLIGHTENMENT

    Cats have more in common with snakes that we care to recognize. She said this with a straight face. He wanted to laugh at her, but dared not. She didn’t take laughter kindly when she thought it was directed at her. He calmly asked her to explain. It’s simple, she said, with feigned patience, both…

    Lou Faber

  • TAKE WING

      There comes a moment when, if our backs are turned, it will arrive and if we notice it will withdraw and hide in corners. We may see it in the periphery and sneak up on it. If we move quickly enough, we can snatch it up and watch it fly off into the morning.

    Lou Faber