an old writer and his words

  • HISTORY

    I took yesterday and pressed it between the pages of my unabridged dictionary. The day began at sunrise and ended just before it became a supplicant, though to what, was not at all apparent. Days can be frustrating when they refuse to allow sufficient margins. I always thought Thursday’s among the best behaved, or at…

    Lou Faber

  • FELINE LOGIC

    Yesterday the cat explained at great length that we occupy her house because she loves us, but that we dare not take this status for granted. I scratched her behind her ears to signify my agreement and so she took my simple act of kindness. You get another week she said, purring.

    Lou Faber

  • ONLY NOW

    Tomorrow, in all likelihood, the park will still be there, we will still be walking there, the Austrian Pines will still stare down at us on the path, and the cardinal will flash by, his cry for attention in a red blaze. Tomorrow all this will likely happen as it did yesterday and last week,…

    Lou Faber

  • IN A MOMENT

    Tomorrow, unlike yesterday which no longer exists, everything is promised and nothing guaranteed. There is no eventuality in the present moment and this is where we are forced to live.

    Lou Faber

  • MIND THE GAP

      Tomorrow none of this will matter. Yesterday it was only a promise, unfulfilled. Today slipped by and I failed to notice it. It is how things go in life, living in the gaps.

    Lou Faber

  • TWO THOUGHTS

      Stare at a still pond, hear the birds “Beedu, Beedu,” now truly listen. . .   Tomorrow is gone, yesterday has disappeared. What moment is this?

    Lou Faber