an old writer and his words

  • SAVANNAH DREAMS

    Slide between the sheetsexhausted after a day of walkingthe streets of this old city.This is a city of squares, statuestoo many to fully recall, eachone’s history unknown to most,and with the slowly falling rainto remain unknown to us.Despite its age and great beautythis is a tourist city, one whererestaurants don’t take reservationsknowing their tables will…

    Lou Faber

  • SAVANNAH

    The morning clings to youlike a damp sheet, the foglifting slowly, a magnifierpulled away from the square,the live oaks edging into focus. You sit at the table, wipingthe crumbs from you reallydon’t want to know when,a steaming cortado waitingpatiently for the first bitesof the large scones onthe mismatched plates. In the background a cry,“vanilla soy…

    Lou Faber

  • LIKE LEMMINGS

    It yells tourist. Hell, it screams it so loud you can hear it in the next county. But they line up for it, wait patiently or not, not even certain why they are here. Some actually take in the Castillo, but most want to see the Fountain of Youth, which bears a remarkable resemblance to…

    Lou Faber