My poem Summer Forest will be published in
The Avocet, Summer 2020 issue.
Thank you, Editor Charles, for choosing my poem.

–Byung A.

Mystery of the bag

The lake view, yellow and purple
Little flowers’ silent whisper,
The sunny pine-hill hums,
The bag hanging from the tree
Holds the stroller imaginative:

A SUV pulls up at the picnic table,
Smell of barbecue,
Loud music, laughters,
Even the tree branches dance
To the cheery mood.
A man hangs a plastic bag
On the tree.
“A gift for you,” with a grin he says.

When quiet again, the tree seems to wonder,
What is hanging from its branch.
The translucent bag reveals it a bit–
It’s something like…had been
In the gut of the man or the stars.
The tree stiffens in confusion,

Ill humor disrespects the beauty
Of the Nature.
If trees can think—
O but they might feel in a way we
Don’t understand—It would think,

The man must be an alien,
No human can be that rude
To our Mother Nature.
Gift from the alien—
A Hazmat suit, necessary to
Make it clear then.

 

©Byung A. Fallgren

The ghosts of the plane trees
by Andrea Ferrari (aferrari@stmari.edu.ar)

tree stumps line the street on both sides
disjointed lopsided limbs lie
felled out as from a man that still stands
in body trunk silence observing its carnage
in pieces of a puzzle now impossible

cars that need more street
side indifferent

didn’t hear the grind spray of
sawdust in spurts or each thump
as it grunted on dry grass

but at night their ghosts rise
thin translucent holographic
towards a dark heaven

ghosts arms upwards in neon white
transparent leaves in innocent
carbon dioxide shine

couldn’t hear if roots murmured growth
or were whispering of soil silence
when machines came and removed stumps

 

 

Seven Weeks Later

Stepping out door
After stay-at-home rule,
The only thing new seems
Added folds and furrows
On our face.
We turn back
With caution,

Keep on
Looking into the field
With the usual greens,
In hopes to find
Unusual one
Elusive,
Right magic suspended
In the game of
Elfin spring.

Oh, but even this ill-flow will
Fade into the blue sea of past.
We will then reminisce the
Warmth and beauty we’ve held
For one another
In the dark season.

©Byung A. Fallgren

 

 

A week late but The Weekly Avocet is here.
Thank you, Charles, for publishing my poem,
Spring Reunion in this issue.
Please feel free to click on the link below and
enjoy the reading.

The Weekly Avocet – #387

–Byung A.

 

Particular Afternoon Lake

In the silent pause of a dame
She embraces the occasional
Rhythmic pecking of a woodpecker,
Distant hums of a boat.
She wonders, how’s everything,

Beneath the still water
Mimicking the halted time
Of the pandemic,

Listens to the sound from within,
The sound, unusual beat of the heart,
Movement, stealth of
An old man.

From afar, a gull cries,
Like a whimpering child,
For the granny in distress.
A jumping fish teases a little
Duck swims by, like
A fun-loving gaffer pinches
The butt of a girl and smiles.

 

©Byung A. Fallgren

 

 

 

 

To be Carefree for the Day
(Reblog)

Now and then, we resort to our favorite
Observation point,

To clarify the thoughts that tend to
Scatter away, like petals in the wind,

Today, we even forgot why we were here,
Enchanted by the songs of the pastel clouds,

Might as well, let us be a carefree soul for the day.

 

©Byung A. Fallgren