an old writer and his words

  • MARCHING

    We walkedfor hours a daywe walked goingnowhere exactlythey wantedmarchingwe walked never quitein stepdespite Sarge’scursed entreaties.By the endof the fifth weekwe marchedin stepmostly.Sarge foundother thingsto curse“you will NEVERbe soldiers” he saidWe are inthe Air Forcewe thoughtnever meantto be soldiers.

    Lou Faber

  • UPWARD

    The young child stares up into the skyand sees in the infinite spacecountless worlds take form and then die. On the mesa coyotes cryseeing gods in what men defacethe young child stares up into the sky hears his ancestors’ mournful replyin an atom’s interstitial spacecountless worlds take form and then die. Inside he sees his…

    Lou Faber

  • WAR

    I have yet to wander the medieval battlefieldsof Europe and it increasingly seems I never will.I have visited my share of castles in Ireland and Scotland,but the acoustics there are not good, and I did nothear the anguished cry of soldiers falling in battle, I have seen rivers, quiet now, where the bloodof the vanquished…

    Lou Faber

  • ARLINGTON NATIONAL

    As the plane slowly descends the cemetery appears through a break in the clouds. The headstones are arrayed in neatly ordered geometries, unknown to those who lie beneath, and those who water the always verdant lawns. Mausoleums cluster in a small village, from which no one ever moves, and rest comes easily to those who…

    Lou Faber