an old writer and his words

  • THREE HAIKU

    wind blows from the northwind blows from the westthe tree is indifferent an old mantis praysseeking nothing for himselfthe sun smiles on him. on the hillsidesheep curl into a furrowcounting shepherds

    Lou Faber

  • WHEN

    When I finally found you,when I finally knelt at your grave,when I finally said hello,when I finally said goodbye,when I finally touched the groundin which you are buriedon the hillside across the riverfrom the city where you were born,a Jewish girl in West Virginianot long removed from Lithuania,when I said my farewell that morningknowing I…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL MOURNING

    I think about you often, lying besidemy grandparents on the hillsideoverlooking the Kanawha River,bathed in the utter silencethat only the dead can clearly hear.I think of you more often than shewho replaced you, she who laterreplaced me with her own, Ian adjacency, still useful butno longer fully or truly valued.I think of you lovingly, knowingfor…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL MOURNING

    I think about you often, lying besidemy grandparents on the hillsideoverlooking the Kanawha River,bathed in the utter silencethat only the dead can clearly hear.I think of you more often than shewho replaced you, she who laterreplaced me with her own, Ian adjacency, still useful butno longer fully or truly valued.I think of you lovingly, knowingfor…

    Lou Faber

  • TREPIDATION

    I approach it slowly, overcomeby fear and desire, warned to stepcarefully over the uneven earththat on this hillside haven set behindthe rusting wrought iron fence , itsmaster lock dangling askew, peersout through the trees to the Kanawha riverflowing unknowingly through the valley. The stone is set in line with the others,neatly incised, a name, Englishand…

    Lou Faber

  • LE CINÉMA

    Watching French movies you know why Hollywood seems less real than the giant letters stuck like pushpins into a hillside. Even in translation laughter remains universal but you begin to think in word pictures that have utterly no meaning le neige gris la belle chat la lumiere fantastique and you imagine dreaming in a tongue…

    Lou Faber