an old writer and his words

  • SENTINEL

    The streetlight is a nocturnal Sentinel staring down. In some cities in other parts of this it could tell of the cries of drunks stumbling from closing bars, ambulances flashing in its cast shadows. On the street with sleeping homes it tells only of the snow that cradles its base.

    Lou Faber

  • NOT _____ AWAY

    There are moments, he said, when everything is suddenly clear, and obvious to me. But they slip away and their shadows quickly fade. She said, if you’d stop looking for the fog, the clarity might linger. Besides, she adds how do you know what is clear and what is not.

    Lou Faber

  • NEVER THE LETHE

    In the deepest, darkest portion of night we are taught that dreams reside, that they are not real, figments, fragments of imagination, woven into an evanescent tapestry that disappears upon waking, leaving only a faint shadow to indicate its once presence. Many like to believe this, for it relieves them of ownership of dark thoughts…

    Lou Faber

  • NIGHT ARRIVES

      As night advances, the clouds march in slow retreat to the horizon under the tattoo of the crows cadenced cawing. Once gone from sight, under the always watchful moon, they shall regroup and prepare to reemerge in the first shadow of the sun of morning.

    Lou Faber

  • EVENT UALLY

    A week from this Thursday something will happen that no one could have ever foreseen. This is the beauty and the horror, at once, of our limited vision, afraid to see the present although it is all that is clearly within our visual field. Instead we look back into the shadows where memory substitutes for…

    Lou Faber

  • IS THAT SO 沙石集 三

    If you find an orphan do you take him as your own. Do you feed and shelter him and offer him your name. Does he sit at your side in silent meditation. Do you willingly accept the scorn of your neighbors for your bastard child? If his mother later comes, will you part with him…

    Lou Faber