an old writer and his words

  • SHE SAID

    She said that we are little more than clay to be molded by God and carved by fate and we count on nothing more than this day. It’s but a week since she has slipped away, we expect our sense of loss to abate. She said that we were little more than clay, just so…

    Lou Faber

  • CANYON

    He stands  on the edge of the canyon and peers into the river etched below. At first you think he is considering jumping, but his gaze is too studious, as if he is waiting for some particular moment. You are correct, he is waiting for a particular moment and when it arrives he shouts at…

    Lou Faber

  • AT THE TEMPLE

    The Buddhist priest in golden robes rocks gently to and fro, chanting from the prayer cards over the din of the flea market swirling around him, The faithful stand with heads bowed, as the stone Buddha draped in red and gold nods his approval

    Lou Faber