an old writer and his words

  • MESA

    This night in cold moonlight earth rises up clouds float down ghosts walk the margin. Old ones sing           now shall be then older ones still sing           then shall be once to wolf and coyote. This season of north winds suns heat barren spirits rise up…

    Lou Faber

  • SLEEPING

    In the Virginia countryside men have dug an enormous hole. Some say it is for the stone to pave their streets, build their homes. Some say it was dug out of spite. The young child looking out the window of the plane knows and simply says it is a burrow where all the stars and moon…

    Lou Faber

  • SUMMER NIGHT

    The moon etches itself into the cobalt sky. Orion rests on the margin of too tall eucalyptus that reach up to ensnare him. Luna’s face floats on the gently shifting pond staring up at the moon recognizing no one. She wonders why the stars move slowly as she sits transfixed. On the window sill Shakyamuni Buddha…

    Lou Faber