Hillside Quartet


Dressed in the silver shirts,
purple and yellow
button down green cloaks,
we perform for the music festival
at the sunny hillside for everyone.

I adore your delicate beauty
you revere my magnificence,
I am steady
you are fluid.
We breathe and absorb our
very own unique essence,
silver and purple
soft and hard
to be what we are,
yet we are for one another,
embrace the beauty of
our harmonious nature,
let the dusty wind pass by,
share the moisture.
In our better days we
brighten the languid souls,
soften callouses,
let ourselves reach
our possible best.

By Byung A. Fallgren

Pastel Evening

Under the pastel sky of
twilight and the pale moon,
hometown’s evening settles,
stirring the memory of yesterday,
calm, melancholic,
ponder about the fate of
driving back for so long
every evening.
Whatever her intention of
greeting in such mellow
stories painted in the sky,
yesterday’s sorrow scatters
in the evening breeze.
Deep inhale of the
new brighter day.
With sweet anticipation,
we return home to our loved ones.

Note: This photo and writing were done years ago.

Photo, written by Byung A. Fallgren


I’m the sunshine
In the rain,
Flower petals
Sprinkled over
Mud puddle,
Smile of the
With hope.


Another boy opened fire at the high school in Florida.  Despite our effort
to stop it, it happens more often than ever before. Homeschooling comes to
mind to keep our children safer.  Ultimately, that’s probably what most of parents will
do for their children.

By Byung A. Fallgren


Compromise, anointed

I love his inclination
of remaining cool when
things go awry,
giving it a try.

On the flip side,
earphones are stuck
in his ears most of time,
cuts the conversation,
that’s when he’s not cool,
my tears create a little pool.

What can I do
to solve this dilemma?
I don’t want to take away
his joy of listening to the story,
I’d rather shout like the son Cory.

Or, he has to keep an ear open,
whether it be his left or right.
He says, “That’s quite alright.”

So anointed with compromise,
balance of yin and yang,
the jolt passes and mechanism of
our family-love runs smooth again.

By Byung A. Fallgren

Better Tactic

Like estranged friend’s voice
she doesn’t like his choice
of remaining in silence
when they argue.

She thinks it’s like flower petals
sprinkled over mud puddle,
a precursor of separation
She wouldn’t want that in desperation.

On second thought,
better tactic is the silence
than having domestic violence.

If the silence is followed by
gentle discussion after hot steam
has escaped a bit,
it may lead to their
dream to be the eternal pair.

By Byung A. Fallgren


On the pages they sing
in many different notes:
the breezy and smug,
hypnotic with convoluted words,
Unbeknownst to ourselves,
we absorb silent voices
as our minds saunter round in
the forest of written words.
We chew and digest,
recognize divers quality,
embrace ones that resonate,
ones that help us mature in the way
rich soil does for sprouts,
hungry for more.

I remember what my daughter then 10-years old said in her writing
competition on diversity, sponsored by the state-wide-read newspaper:
“…when we don’t like diversity we don’t have music” which made her
win the competition.  Good to know that even young children don’t
fear the diverse crowd.

By Byung A. Fallgren

Whimsical Day

I’ve disabled “like” button
on my Home page, tossing
the yesterday’s encouragement
into the archive of memory.
Free from pressure, I fly;
I care no more about the number.
I stare at the blank spot where
the friendly faces sat before.
A lump formed in my throat,
tear welling.
I reactivate the button,
the precious number yet
a large group for my modesty
returned, brighten the screen,
and I smile at the sudden whim.
I care no more about producing
effective post.
Just write in my way and share.

By Byung A. Fallgren