an old writer and his words

  • SHEPHERDING

    Today I paused to considerhow odd it must be for thoseborn, bred and always livingin a city, say New York, andto sill be a lover of poetry.So many poets, from Keatsto Hirshfield will take youinto nature, bathe you in wordsbeneath a star lit sky, sit youin a meadow, breathing airthat has never known the exhaustof…

    Lou Faber

  • THREE HAIKU

    sun consumes itselffurnace heat grips the citysmall maple withers setting summer sunturns the river to purplemoon comes from hiding giant cranes are perchedon thin spindly legs, necks bowedsteel beams scratch the clouds

    Lou Faber