an old writer and his words

  • MISSING

    In my dreamI went for a walk alonga boardwalk but therewas no beach to be seen.I came across a little girlsitting, leaning againstthe railing, forlorn woulddescribe her fairly.I took off one of mygray socks, a black seamacross the toe, stuck iton my hand, nowa sock puppet.She smiled so Igave her the sock.She arose and seemedto…

    Lou Faber

  • TOKYO SNAPSHOTS

    In the small yardof the matchbox housethe lone Ginkgotwisted by timefeels the barrennessof winter’s tongueand mournsits solitude. The apartment building looms upover the tracks of the Narita Expressthe balconies are deserted, savefor the laundry which flapsin the morning breeze,slapping with the gustsinto the small satellite dishesbolted to the railings. The ancient trees are twistedand gnarled,…

    Lou Faber