The Relic of the Grandmother

~ Byungafallgren ~ Leave a comment 
The Relic of the Grandmother

In the Corner of the back yard
near the chicken coop
a cream-colored, aged Cadillac 
rests, enconsed among the grass.

Despite the rusts here and there,
inside, it appears cozy, with a tan
blanket and a downy pillow, bearing 
the memories of her;

the starry nights and the days
of the flower girl; all too vivid.
now, joking and laughing about 
the relic, with her finace, and the children, 
 the memory will fade; under the heavy air and 
the dust of the time. Now and then, 
it steals her glance; that also will fade
into the once favorite star in the darkness.

©Byung A. Fallgren

The Sounds of Prayer

~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments

The Sounds of Prayer

The chatters of joyful sparrows
in the robust juniper,
having survived the night,
without the snake’s invasion.

The cawing magpie on the porch rail
announcing a good day.

The mother’s “I love you,”
and the little daughter
in the hospital bed,
“I love you, too.”

Cussing at home, at work, or even while driving,
we cuss or pray; deep inside, we all pray,
wish you good luck; I love you, too.

©Byung A. Fallgren