by Juana de Ibarbourou 

     I grew
     Only for you.
Cut the acacia boughs that demand
Only destruction at your hand!

     My bosom blew
     Only for you.
Uproot me–in its natal hour
My only doubted were it candle or flower.

     My waters blue
     Flow for you.
Drink me–never crystal knows
So pure a tide as in this channel flows.

     Wings I knew
     Only for you.
Pursue me! (Quivering firefly,
Veil your flame from every eye!)   

Winter Morning Haiku/Senryu

My beautiful picture

third booster shot
of Covid gave me reaction
protection fever

sun is soft and shiny
but no birds are singing
winter morning

when he heard the judge’s
verdict, the teen’s leg turned rubbery
not guilty

Sage Grous mates
unaware of their loss of vast habitat
Mother Nature weeps

waking in the morning
toys on the dashboard greet me
childhood moment still alive

©Byung A. Fallgren


Another happy Sunday; my three poems are accepted by Subnivean,
the Review published by State University of New York. The three poems:
The Woman at the Frozen Creek, The Joy of Our Lives,
At the Empty Homestead (revised one). Thank you, editors at
the Subnivean for accepting the three poems.

Byung A.

In the Empty Can

In the Empty Can

A hungry coyote or a bear
licks the residue in the can that
smell’s good, not so bad taste,
unaware of the sharp edges,
unaware of the injured skin,
that haunts it with pain.

Before trashing the empty can,
the girl envisions the neighbors
and swish the can under the running water,
with love for her friends.

©Byung A. Fallgren

Black bear in our yard in Asheville, NC

Decoding the Fall Colors

Decoding the Fall Colors

Enjoying the Fall leaves, colorful,
I hear Sun’s whisper: remember, too,
decode my message in the  Fall colors.
Of all the colors of sun’s message,
the pale yellow warns of
the vanishing rain forest;
the shy lavenders, the polluted oceans and
endangered marine lives;

the gray one, plethora of CO2 in the air,
the green house gas, the holes in the ozone layer
in the atmosphere, the sharp ultraviolet ray,
health problems of animals and us;

little white flowers, melting artic ice,
harming the ecosystem;
the beige tan, the contaminated water source,
river and the lake;

the orange leaves, ailing of the Earth;
the bold red, the embarrassed sun,
like the one in the thick smog.

O the rose in the pink, our waking, hope;
plan, work, to save our Mother Earth.
With beam, the sun waves the flag.

©Byung A. Fallgren

*This piece first appeared in The Avocet, Fall 2021, printed issue.
Thank you, Charles, Vivian, Valerie, for accepting the poem.