an old writer and his words

  • NESSLESS

    There are no monstersin this lake I tellmy granddaughter, answeringher unasked question.There are bears in the woodsaround here and thereused to be an owl which madean afternoon visit.There are deer, certainlyand there could be a coyoteor two. If you don’tbelieve me, ask the crows,everyone knows that theycan never keep a secret. First published in From…

    Lou Faber

  • A MORNING PRAYER

    My words are carried on the winter morning wind echoing off the obsidian mound and shattering in silver crystals reflecting the frigid sun. The barren moon recedes as my son, the wolf, ravens devouring knowledge of the world, listening to the song of the dolphin. She is a rose, soft petals fluttering thorns poised to…

    Lou Faber