an old writer and his words

  • DAYS LIKE THIS

    Then there are the dayswhen I play the buffoon,the juggler whose ballscome crashing to the floorbringing tears to the crowdof joy or sorrow, I cannothope to tell, for this dayI can only flail about,the circus clown, and youhad best keep your distancelest I break you as well.

    Lou Faber

  • DIFFERENT TODAY

    The air we breathe is different today,and we inhale more deeplywith the energy of our youth. The tears we cry today are notsolely tears of loss and sorrow,but also of promise and hope. The wine that we drink todaywill be the same as before, butnow sweeter on the tongue. The sleep that we sleep tonightwill…

    Lou Faber

  • CITIZEN OF . . .

    There was a time that nowseems so very long ago, when Iwould freely admit, sometimes claimto be American, if not acknowledgingmy time in the Air Force as well. Those days are gone, as is the placeI knew, now morphed into somewheremuch the same, and entirely unrecognizable,and I am American by proximity, knowingmy welcome has been…

    Lou Faber