an old writer and his words

  • STONE

    Off the pier in Santa Barbara a young child throws a stone into the quiet ocean. Later an imperceptible wave slips quietly into Yokohama harbor. In Big Sur a Monarch butterfly slips from her chrysalis on tentative gossamer wings and takes flight. Later, still,  I stand on the Boston Commons and cast a momentary smile.

    Lou Faber

  • SEASIDE VILLANELLE

    The ocean wind swept through the city a sudden rain washed sidewalk, shop and street, carried both dreams and sins back to the sea. For the young child, time slid by easily, life a campaign that allowed no retreat. The ocean wind swept through the city, rattled church windows, so that all could see the…

    Lou Faber

  • TELLER

    She claims to see the future in a glass orb, in the palm of a hand, in the cards spread out on a small table. He knows all history is written in books is retold in stories is buried in successive layers of soil beneath the city. Neither walks along the shore see this wave…

    Lou Faber

  • MIDSTREAM

    A young man sits on a large flat rock jutting out into a river. He slowly tells the river the story of his life, places he has been, people seen and known. Each drop of water flowing by hears a small bit of his story, none hear whole thoughts, for perhaps he has told none.…

    Lou Faber