an old writer and his words

  • NOVEMBER EVENING

    He sits calmly in the cornerof the restaurant redolent with curryand cardamom.He smiles, unseen,his third eyes staresdeeply felt on the backof my neck.Her eyes draw me inoffering a serenity,she smiles freelyand I recall the parkin the shadow of the mountainsthe soft touch of velvetand the empressalongside the fool.It is too soon donebut the soft furof…

    Lou Faber

  • NOVEMBER EVENING

    He sits calmly in the cornerof the restaurant redolent with curryand cardamom.He smiles, unseen,his third eyes staresdeeply felt on the backof my neck.Her eyes draw me inoffering a serenity.She smiles freelyand I recall the parkin the shadow of the mountainsthe soft touch of velvetand the empressalongside the fool.It is too soon donebut the soft furof…

    Lou Faber

  • NARA

    It was inside Nara that it finally slipped away. Its tether had grown ever weaker, the first slip was decades before, a book, brief meetings an answerless question. It stretched further in Tokyo, basin incense under the watchful third eye and hung perilously by fewer and fewer threads until, with the monks’ gentle bow, it…

    Lou Faber