Behind Stowe Elizabeth Bishop I heard an elf go whistling by, A whistle sleek as moonlit grass, that drew me like a silver string To where the dusty, pale moths fly, And make a magic as they pass; A there I heard a cricket sing. His sing echoed through and through The dark under a windy tree Where glinted little insects' wings. His singing split the sky in two. The halves fell either side of me, And I stood straight, bright with moon-rings. Elizabeth bishop was only sixteen when the poem was published by The Blue Peniel in 1927. She was born February 8, 1911 in Massachusetts. She won the 1956 Pulitzer prize in poetry and winner of the 1970 National Book award. She died October 6, 1979.
Author: Byungafallgren
Winter Berries, the Crow
Winter Berries, the Crow Red clusters of the seeds of dream; silent screams of time gone too soon, hanging from the bear branches; soft snow's empathy; lone crow ponders, if this beauty is what death looks like. He listens to the spirits of the season gone, in the nature, in the human voices that always gives him shiver, in the drifting snow from the pine trees, too profound to chew and swallow. He pecks the little berry; surprised by the firm grip on the community of its world; tilt his head, gaze more, feels the knot in his heart, with sudden yearning, he takes off. ©Byung A. Fallgren
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My three poems, Depletion of Ozone Layer, Global Warming, Protecting Water source are published in this issue. Thank you, Charles, Vivian, and Valeri for taking my poems. Byung A.
Night Haiku
Night Haiku in the wee hours two owls hoot to each other wise winter night it happens at midnight a screech owl flies by my house shrills the climate change moon hides in the tree as rabbit skids on the ice spring won't be here soon ©Byung A. Fallgren
Winter Haiku
Winter Haiku no birds are flying but the drifting snow everywhere deep winter is here green juniper's branch sticks out through the snow on it what is going on the town under the snow so quiet, it is picturesque lone rabbit hops round under the deep snow nothing seems moving, even trees why the wind howls so clouds seem to tell us looking at the deep snow here put it to good use ©Byung A. Fallgren
Thought of Today
A Thought of Today: God does not do everything for you but gives you strength when you are weak. Byung A.
Hive
Hive It drums in my ear when try to sleep in the wee hours; failed dream. It crawls across the back of the neck, intense itch at night, test the will power not to scratch. succumb, scratch, savor the brief freedom. would be nice if the world pain can be relieved by the quick stroke. The PA prescribed a tube of skin cream: steroid and other ingridients, used for cancer! it didn't work, of course, for it is a devil. It cackles, spreading: red, itch pain. what made it wants to bother me so; what I did wrong? PA, even the doc couldn't figure out. blame the hair shampoo; allergic to it. exile Ms. shampoo; wouldn't do any good. The hair dryer! Vidal Sassoon says, Keep the drier six-inch away from the noggin. Dump the villain and wait, see the devil vanish. Have you ever had hive from using the hair dryer? I have. Hive is a skin rash that itch and lasts long. its cause is often difficult to tell. allergic reaction from food, exhaustion, and others are common. Once I had hive, not knowing its cause, Then I discovered that the hair dryer could cause hive, if ignored the instruction on using the product: "When use, keep the dryer six-inch away." If the manufacturer mentioned as to "Why" I would have followed the instruction! Byung A.
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Coyote Sees Himself in Water
Coyote Sees Himself in Water Tracy M, Atsitty Averts his gaze: nare & lore, a body; of water braded into itself: bone of herring, its blackness among the bone white rush plunge against his bare body, wind up (upstroke) cascades a woman's body. coyote grows tethers over keel bone, thrusting, as if to buoy gently--blown over himself, prone to leave the body he embraced. No, there is no beauty here! Estuary of thick mutter and honk, up close: water, herring, & wind blow bare, gnat embedded in matted feathers. Here-- Tracy M. Atsitty is the author of Rain Scald (University of New Mexico Press, 2018). She is a PhD student in the creative writing program at Florida State University in Tallahassee, where she lives.
Even the Leaves
Even the leaves While most of them ramble round the yard or blown away like aimless souls, some settle in the window well; visit the salamander and toad hidden in their holes wide open; the leaves hide the doors under their wings; the finders of weak and helpless. they welcome snow, meditate beneath it, all winter long, slowly fade till next spring. ©Byung A. Fallgren
Byung A. Fallgren 