an old writer and his words

  • DANCE

    The red kite dances alongside the yellowed leaf borne by the fall breeze. The clouds flow like a river across the smile of the child. First appeared in Active Muse, Varsha 2019 Issue

    Lou Faber

  • ALOFT

    As a child I often flew kites, which is to say that I ran haphazardly pulling a string and dragging a wood frames paper rhombus across the park. My father laughed until seeing me on the edge of tears he took up the string and dragged the kite across the park. One day a strong…

    Lou Faber

  • THE BUDDHIST TEMPLE AT NARA

    On the steps of the Temple the unexpected morning snow which cast a threadbare blanket over the gates and lanterns recedes slowly like a supplicant whose prayers have been offered. The candle flames shiver in the strong February wind while the Buddha sits, implacable. In the park below a dragon kite takes the wind and…

    Lou Faber