an old writer and his words

  • THIS TOO

    When I hear “this tooshall pass,” I hopeat least for a whilethey are not talking about me.The flowers outsidedo not ask such questions,too busy drawing eyesto really care.And the now deadpalm tree in the yardhas become stoicjust watching,always watching.

    Lou Faber

  • WINTER?

    In the early morning, beforeI open the blinds, beforethe sun approaches rising,I imagine the chill envelopingeverything outside, Octoberslipping quickly towardNovember, to the possibilityof rolling snake eyes, to snow. Winter always came that way,unannounced, and at leastby me, unwelcomed, thelast of the crimson, flameorange and ochre leavesdragged to the earthand buried ignominiously. But I know when…

    Lou Faber

  • AVIAN CONUNDRUM

    The woodpeckers here seemquite content to beat their headsagainst palm trees, which I am notcertain should qualify as trees,not a ring to be seen if you cutone down, but they tend to fallbefore you get to that point. The most common woodpeckeris the red bellied, which itselfis odd since his head is bright redhis belly…

    Lou Faber

  • ARIZONA IS A STATE OF MIND

    Looking out the window, Iam reasonably certain this isnot Arizona and it is not justthe palm trees that suggest it. Well, in part it is the palm trees,although they have some there,but here it is the variety of palmsand the limited number of lizards. We have the occasional gecko,and the iguanas have begunto arrive, though…

    Lou Faber