Author: Byungafallgren

Presumption

~ Byungafallgren ~ 4 Comments 
Presumption

We, oldies, look out the window quite often;
sometimes, our neighbors catch ourselves, and
we wave to each other. 

We heard the other couple arguing:
"So, you like the flatbellied old bee?"
"Like her flat belly is all."

"Let us divorce,
so you can marry the
flat-bellied woman."

The next day the arguing continued, and
the couple left home in seperate cars.
Are they going to get a divorce? 

After a while, he returnedalone and 
sat hunched on the porch. We thought 
she wouldn't be back soon--maybe, never.

"He needs some company,"
He was about to visit the man
when his wife returned.

Later that day, the couple showed up
at our door, all smily. In her arms are 
a couple of white puppies.

"Would you like one?" 
We both grabbed one of the puppies.
"Oh, isn't he cute?"  

© Byung A. Fallgren

The Midnight Horseback Rider

~ Byungafallgren ~ 4 Comments 
The midnight Horseback Rider

The moonlight was sneaking in
through the gap in the curtains and sat silently
on my bed when a sudden tippy-top, tipity-top
of the horse's hoofs hummed on the road outside
my window. My impulse was to see who it is
but remained in my bed, charmed by the 
unusual equestrian rhythm, and lest 
it might stop if I moved. Smooth and steady
cadence, alternating walk and trot; someone 
must be practicing equestrian gate;
passionate performance, driven by a skillful
conductor. The sound faded away
as the rider and horse moved down the road.
Only then did I catapult to the window.

The moon was on the treetop, shinning on the
empty street; im my head, the horse's gate still echoed;
the rhythmes from the past dream.
Even in my old age, the rhythms from
the past dreams are still drumming
in the deep of night, like the
midnight horseback ride on a moonlit street.  

© Byung A. Fallgren

Sunny Day with no War is…

~ Byungafallgren ~ 7 Comments

Sunny Day with no War is…

silent singing of the grass
in the lawn, praising the sun;
a wishful imagination or a 
person with overactive endorphin?  
a scream of an old woman at her
husband taking the trash out.
the man counter yells at her:
"And you wonder why I don't give you a flower."
A bluejay squawks, scolding the couple:
"There go the unhappy humans. Will they
ever get along, even on a sunny day with no war?"

© Byung A. Fallgren

He was not my father, only then

~ Byungafallgren ~ 3 Comments 
He was not my father, only then

His balmy eyes with a spring smile were
my father, whom i smiled at when i was a baby;
his sunny cheer on the first day of
my kindergarten was the seed of love, encouragement,
that empowered me throughout my life.

My father, the only father i've had, until one day,
my playful digging in the deep unearthed a piece
of shock that rattled my soul. my volcanic heart
could not bury in the dune of past.
i thought it was the end.
i listened to: whose love weighs more,
the one who saved you from the deep river
and nurtured you, or the one who discarded you
like a wad of flesh? The answer led me back to
the only father i knew.

© Byung A. Fallgren