junipers don't need to be pruned by human nature did already children don't need to grow under parental pressure just put them in right track what happens in woman's body her choice ©Byung A. Fallgren
Free Haiku
How did she endure it?
How did she endure It?
to the woman I loved
The memory of the rain and sleets, all the music I heard, songs of the drift snows from the hill, and smell of the swamp. The old house across the swamp, crouched at the foothill, like a brooding animal; the hungry chicks chirping, begging, wondering. Her doubt on his method would gnaw at her skin, the words swallowed. The old elm, with a big hollow in the trunk was my refuge when they argued; I'd sit on the bough, watch the well below. a tadpole peeking out the cloud in the well, watching me watching it in awe. No wonder she called it unhealthy savior. What else in it? Now, the frost on my head, I don't try to understand her. Instead, I raise my hands above my head, reach for the heaven, as if to hold her boney hands that cared for us all through the cold nights. All her life. ©Byung A. Fallgren
The Weekly Avocet
Note: Some editorial errors appeared in the opening of this week’s issue:
this is supposed to be The Weekly Avocet #493. But the contents of
the poems are different from #492. On behalf of the journal, I apologize
for the matter. –Byung A.
The Doe, Sleep Aid, Rattle
The Doe when her son was excluded she walks with him in the night Sleep Aid awake in the wee hour no problem, read book, works better than pills Rattle wind blows all night rattling the satellite dish on the roof for the rotten news ©Byung A. Fallgren
Windy Backyard Wisdom
Windy Backyard Wisdom
Winds blow over
the white and green,
cascades from the hill
to the open, rippling in
silver gray, in hopes,
raise them into the air
and blow them away.
But they stay formidable,
roots in the soil,
like the stubborn youths’ will
to keep their land,
rebel against the invaders.
The ripples grow to sea waves,
claw the florets and blades, in vain;
the wings mean to fly,
the roots mean to stay,
like the incompatible lovers.
©Byung A. Fallgren
The Weekly Avocet
being a good company
Dandelion & Iris like a good friend forget each other's fault just enjoy being a good company This piece is one of the six poems published in The Weekly Avocet #491, May 1st, 2022. Thank you, Charles, Vivian, Valeri for taking them. --Byung A.
The Weekly Avocet, with the six poems
My six poems appeared in this journal: Spring Pasture; Learning the eyes of Sky,
turtles; Dandelion & Iris; For the Spring Sun; Spring Grass; Spring Tree Song.
Thank you, Charles, Vivian, and Valerie for taking these poems.
–Byung A. Fallgren
Inside me, a family
Inside me, a family by Ching-In Chen born from small waters. Each night, I look for a paper to feed this first litter from a slow continent. New trappers buy their fetters and hooks, dreaming of new skin to drape. In the sky, a wound like river, opening up again to bird. Neighborhood pushes against seams, dislikes a newcomer. This linked to history and forgetting-- a new gray house like a weed. A monument rises past the window. We sit and drink twice-steeped tea. Ching-In Cheng is the author of Recombinant (Kelsey Street Press, 2017) and The heart's Traffic (Red Hen Press, 2009). A Callaloo, Kundiman, and Lambda Fellow, Assistant professor in the School of Interdisciplinary Arts and Science and MFA in creating and Poetics at the University of Washington.
View on the side of the road, a Message
View on the side of the road, a Message Silver sky and the land join in the sea of smog; Submerged, the wind turbines wave their arms, Like the drowning octopuses. Drying lake gives her way to the green invaders, Like old soldiers with no weapons. Hope the smoke will dwindle with winter's arrival; Dried lakes will begin to refill As the irrigation stops in October. In the smoke, the wind turbines point fingers, As we panic at the foot of crumbling hills, Fumbling on the sea of plans. They say eventually Nature replenishes what it has lost, But she cannot revive the perished creatures; Polar bears, beavers, and others may live only In the children's story book. We can reverse that, can't we? ©Byung A. Fallgren
Byung A. Fallgren 