an old writer and his words

  • GOOD DAY (GOODNIGHT)

    Every morning we are able, we go outon the lanai and have our fruit bowlsthen our cappuccinos with toastfrom her homemade sourdoughwhole wheat bread, and watchcountless birds fly outof the wetland that abuts our yard.The cat is always awaitingour arrival, usually sleepingon one of our oak rockers.She will look up at us, yawnand when we…

    Lou Faber

  • AN AVIAN MESSAGE

    The birds departed one morning which we believe may be how they express displeasure, although the destruction of the nests and the death of the children by predators may have had something to do with the departure. We wait patiently for their return, the wetland still dry, but we hope with the wet season that…

    Lou Faber

  • ABSOLUTION

    The birds in the wetlandspeak to me in my dreams,telling tales of what this placewas before we arrivedand forever changed it. They don’t curse us, althoughthey remind us we are cursedby our own actions, butthey do pity us, ground boundliving in our own waste. In the morning the birdshave disappeared, a fewvultures carrying off the…

    Lou Faber

  • RETAINER

    I had a meeting this morningwith a number of the birdsthat inhabit our wetland. The said they wanted to retainmy services, although howthey discovered I was a lawyeris wholly beyond me as Iretired several years ago. They asked me to drafta cease and desist letterto all Americans, demandingthat we stop tweeting, ormore to the point,…

    Lou Faber

  • MONOLOGUE

    I would like nothing more thanto have a long conversation with the birds,that there is much they could tell me,much they know that I should understandbut I am the interloper here, and theyhave lost trust in my kind. I watch them closely, trying to discern what I can of their thoughts,but in a flash of wing,…

    Lou Faber

  • INVASION

    The light has fadedand the wetland lies underits mantle of faint starlight. The birds are there, wecan hear them, but our eyesdo not allow us to see them,despite our desire to havemore time with them. They can see us, in our well lit homes, staring out,but they do not want particularly to see us. To us they…

    Lou Faber