“Intense wave of dark feeling,
too powerful to resist, waits for
the egoistic idiocy to
prevail with your mind,

letting you forget
the moral obligation to
the loved ones and yourself,
to turn away from the
devil within,
keep walking forward,

flings you to
no return zone,
no amount of regret
can undo fallen,
Be mindful of the enemy
within–run, grab ahold
of healing hand.”

By Byung A. Fallgren

While the little son
climbs up the ladder
in sheer joy of act,
Father envisions
Son’s glory on the horizon.
Son’s foot slips,
Father closes his eyes,
fighting not to think of
Son’s misfortune.
Son tumbles down,
Father’s heart skips
a beat or two. He mutters,
My son, you can be
whatever
makes your life easier.

©by Byung A. Fallgren

Flow of the melting snow,
the broken water of
Nature’s womb,
before the arrival of spring,
one of her many memories.

Stream knows the footprints within,
the winter hunters’ scent on the
rock, his cigaret butt wedged
between the stones, she mimics
the hunters’ voices.

Doe he’d let go rests by the shrub,
expects to give birth soon, The
stream knows the footprints
within, the reticent keeper of
the story they left behind.

©by Byung A. Fallgren

Removing the cracked
concretes on my driveway, he
mocks the cooing dove,
do do doo, do do doo.
Might he think:
what will I do tomorrow?
This isn’t what I should do
on the weekend,
while my friends fishing,
hiking with their girl friends.
He kicks the concrete piece then
hums. I almost hear him singing:
I work at the bottom
today, I may do the same thing
tomorrow but at the top,
a contracter, encouraging
the young men like me,
‘you are building for
tomorrow formidable
as concrete.’
Dove recites the words
as the young man hums.

by Byung A. Fallgren