an old writer and his words

  • FATHERING

    There is a certain cruelty in knowingwhere my birth father is buried, a pictureof his headstone in the National Cemetery,his face as I know it cropped from a group photoof his unit while stationed in New Hampshire.The cruelty is not in that fact, or that I havea picture of the grave of my first adoptivefather…

    Lou Faber

  • ON LEARNING PAINFULLY

    I cannot begin to tell youhow glad I am that I neverfollowed through on the ideaof flying to Lisbon and searchingfor you or some record of you.After all, she told the adoptionagency when she gave me upthat you were a Portuguese Jewshe met in Washington, D.C.so the odds were good you couldbe found in the…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL WAITING

    Just to let you know, I still look for youeven though I know it is not at alllikely that I will find you wandering about,after all, Florida is quite some distancefrom Beverly, New Jersey and youdon’t get out much these days.Still I look, not certain if you willbe wearing your uniform ofjust civvies, but I…

    Lou Faber

  • ORIGIN

    I am told that I should writeabout my origins, that is the stuffthat long poems are made of, orrather the soil from which they bloom. I have written about my birth motherand visited her grave in West Virginiaseen those of my grandparents, meta cousin, I’ve written all of that. So its time to write aboutmy…

    Lou Faber

  • WANDERING NO MORE

    In my dreams I wanderedthe alleys of Lisbon searchingfor a familiar face, and manycame close, but no man stopped meand asked if I was, by chancehis son, for he dreamed Iwas what a son of hiswould look like. Now I have no need to wanderfor I know he is ina military cemeteryin Burlington, New Jersey,and…

    Lou Faber