an old writer and his words

  • HERE-ISH, NOW-ISH

    In this moment we, the two of us,are here in this precise placeand there are an infinite numberof places we might be.But we want to be here,just here, nowhere else.We are aging, but in this momentwe are exactly the right ageand to be younger or olderwould do nothing for us.When I curl against youas the…

    Lou Faber

  • WEAVING

    A length of threadcolorful to be surealone, easilyignored, sweptaside. Woveninto a tapestrypart of a picturetreasuredfor beauty, ordepicting horrorbut remembered. Countless threadscolorfulalonetogethertelling taleslockedin memory. First Published in New Feathers Anthology Spring 2021http://www.newfeathersanthology.com/new-feathers21.htm

    Lou Faber

  • ALONG THE WAY

    They walk slowly, each step measured as to both length and cadence. The need not speak, they have long been synchronous, now cannot avoid being so without great effort. They say nothing, words have grown superfluous, and would only interrupt the slow procession of the clouds, the ducks swimming against the river’s flow, the birds…

    Lou Faber

  • AMOUR

    A voice clear, jazz straight up in six strings with no surprises, but sitting next to my wife and lover it is what an evening wants in much the same way as a night in the heart of winter demands spooning beneath the blanket pulled up to our chins the outside world, having ceased to…

    Lou Faber