an old writer and his words

  • UPREACH

    The reeds reach upwarddreaming they are green rice shootsslowly turning goldin the sight of the sun lit smilecast by old Fujiyama First published in 31 Gōrutendā, February 2024https://31gorutenda.blogspot.com/2024/02/upreach-louis-faber.html?m=1

    Lou Faber

  • SLIPPAGE

    As sight slowly slips away, asthe macula continues its retreat,the sense of your senses must change.We are driven by sight; and sound, tastetouch and smell are really just valued adjuncts.The Bard of Avon suggested that the eyesare windows to the soul, and oh how manyseers want to help you look into the future.We are told…

    Lou Faber

  • TOGETHER

    It is easy to say all of the wrong thingsto someone you imagine disabled,some obvious, some less so, butstop and consider if that personhas a partner, a lover, a spouse.What do you say to that personwho lives with the same disability,not wearing it but bearing itto a lesser degree nonetheless?As I lose my vision, my…

    Lou Faber

  • A THOUSAND

    There is a far less obviousbut very important reasonto be a poet, a bit less so, but stilla good reason to write prose.Perhaps you will say that myreason is wholly and solelyaudience specific, and youwould be at least partially right,for if, like me, you are inthe process of losing your sight,or have already done so,…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL VAINLY SEARCHING

    I spent a pleasant morning walkingquietly around the grounds, searchingfor them diligently, but as on most days they again remained hidden from sight.I did see several cattle egrets staringdeeply into the foliage, knowing that breakfast lay hidden deep within,and a flock of ibis pecking lifefrom the still wet, just watered lawns. Today I even saw…

    Lou Faber

  • FORGIVE ME

    There is always a certain levelof guilt when the Amazonpackage arrives, as they didalmost daily, since Imostly avoided storesduring the pandemic.My guilt arises at the sightof the face of the driverrushing to leave the package,leaping back on the truck,knowing he is graded onthe speed at which hecompletes the far too long run,relieving himself in a…

    Lou Faber

  • IN ABSENTIA

    It is, I thinkher lips I miss mosttheir butterfly flutteracross my cheekthen her eyes, almost felinethat see withinbehind wallshastily erectedthat fall to her sight.It is all of thatand the whispered wordslinking heartsthat still echoas she slides into sleep.I cry out to Morpheusmy words are swallowedby the droneof the enginesthat fall as raininto the Sea of…

    Lou Faber

  • ACCESSIBILITY

    Technology has afforded those of uswith impairments the abilityto more fully participatein the world around us. However we can never lose sight,a painful use of the phrasein my case, of its imperfections. Perhaps it is merely anticipatingthe future of our species, as whenthe phones captioning decideda somewhat elided Marsha and Barrywas in fact Martian berries.As…

    Lou Faber

  • LOOKING UP

    I have discovereda small advantageof slowly losingmy sight. Each daythe imagein the mirroris less clear, wrinklesdisappearand I don’tlook quite as old as I knowthat I am, andyou’re lookingbetter as well.

    Lou Faber

  • DUSK

    There is nothing like, nowords to adequately describe,that moment when a cloud-hazed sun lingers wishfullyjust above the horizon, graspingthe sky with brilliant talonsof light, fearing becominglost in a darkness that will,on this night of the new moon,engulf us all in its inky shroud. We know, or pray, the sunwill return in hours, justas the sun…

    Lou Faber