an old writer and his words

  • FIVE HAIKU

    The dawn cedes slowlyto the impinging sunlightbirds greet the new day The great egret liftsher wings embracing the cloudthe winter sun smiles on the barren branchthe red-shouldered hawk awaitsher mate and the sun sandhill cranes wanderalong the shore of the lakelooking for nothing the moon is a cupwaiting for night to fill itvenus sits empty

    Lou Faber

  • EDGE OF THE ABYSS

    He sits on the edgepeering down, shakingin the breeze, knowingthe abyss below waitsfor a misstep, a slip. He stares up, waitingfor her return, hopingshe will soon arrivebringing the meal, neverenough always wanting more. He knows he willsomeday soon haveto leave, but for nowall he can do is spreadhis wings, flap them, until it will seem…

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN KNOWS

    His extended wingsmomentarily block the sunsetting his feather tips ablaze.His vermillion talons graspthe waiting branch threateningto break it from the treeunless is bends to his will.His curved beak archesagainst an orange skyholding tightly tothe retreating sun.I can only watcha majestic momentand believe that somewherethe must be a Godfor nature alone could notconceive of a creatureof…

    Lou Faber

  • LIONEL HAMPTON AND THE GOLDEN MEN OF JAZZ

    Blue Note, pardonour constructionblack paintedplasterboarda hangingair conditioning duct. Grady Tatesneering at the skinsgrowling at a high hathands shiftingdeftly reaching inpicking a beatand sliding itover the crowd. Jimmy Woodeblind to the lightsslides his fingersover stringsand talks to the bassresting on his shoulder.It sings backbegging , pleadingdemanding as his headsways with an inner vision. Junior Mancesways slowly…

    Lou Faber

  • EMERGENT

    When I least expect it, onemay unfurl wings and liftinto a clouded sky searchingfor the hidden sun, or it may wander off, a childmomentarily free of parentsoff to discover the real world, or it may retreat back intothe pen, unwilling to be seen,objecting to its misuse, or it may sit in front of the TVand…

    Lou Faber

  • EMPTY SACKS WILL NEVER STAND UPRIGHT

    There are nightswhen the songof a single cricketcan pull you away from sleep.She says that she has heardthat not all Angels have wingsand neither of themis sure how you would knowif you met a bodhisattva.He searches the mailevery day, for a letterfrom unknown birth parentsbut none of the credit cardshe ought to carryoffers to rebate…

    Lou Faber

  • FLIGHT

    We imagine that they aredisappearing into the cloudsonly to reemergein a different place. Nothing could be furtherfrom the truth for they,these raptors flyingon monstroius wings,are shredding the cloudsripping free their fruit,eating of the sweetestparts, letting the restfall down on usas we scurry awayafraid of being soakedin their remnants.

    Lou Faber

  • BALLET OF THE GODS

    Once they pierced your heelsto hobble you, bound upfeet and ankles to lashyou to the earth, there weren’tangels then, no wings, just the painof toes crushed inward,the silent agony of motion,a cruel joke played by godsstarved for entertainment.But Terpsichore, hearingErato’s song, set them freebrought them to a pointe,allowed them to take winglessflight, and toes became…

    Lou Faber

  • NIGHT APPROACHES

    The clouds this eveningare the deep gray that so longto be black, but the retreatedsun just below the horizonlingers long enough to deny them. The space, shrinking, betweenthe clouds, is the gray of promisethat the night will soon deny,and the birds who take overthe preserve, chant their vespers,each in his or her own language,uncommon tongues…

    Lou Faber

  • STARE DOWN

    I stand still, staring, as you stand as still staring back, neither of us yielding in what will be a long played-out game on a day of intense sunshine. I am certain you will concede will depart, and I am ready, much as you assume I will tire as my kind always do, and turn…

    Lou Faber