‘Watch for him, could you?’
‘For how long, Son?’
‘Three weeks or so.’
Grandpa turns to me for my approval.
I feel my face lit as if by a campfire of night.
‘Weather should be travel-friendly.’

I help Little Son get dressed and feed him
Grandpa waves to Little Son as he gets on the school bus.
I clean the house and do the laundry, fighting heel pain.
Grandpa helps me with shopping, despite the joint pain then
At the bus stop he waits for Little Son coming home.
On the weekend, Grandpa needs to take care of Monsters at home.
Grandpa, Little Son, Big Son, and me take a road trip.
I frown at the storm cloud.

Against the windshield splash big drops,
Then it down pours.
On the road pile up softball hails.
Celestial winter game in August!
Vehicles are coward turtles, creeping over to
The shoulders, waiting for it stop, except
Big Son braves to crawl through the hailstorm.

‘Wait as others do, Son,’ I squeak.
His eyes fixed on the road, Big Son is a quiet soldier.
After infinite-hour, the hail stops.
From afar the turtles begin to follow then zoom by.
Big Son keeps it within speed limit.

The Monsters at home are taken care of.
Little Wife has returned from her trip. Duty-free,
We, old couple bid the children goodbye until next time:
‘If life plays like the weather, to give is only love.’

 

© Byung A. Fallgren

Grandpa’s eyes tag along
Little Son romps ’round the park,
Grandpa turns again five.
When the child pauses
At the end of the tunnel slide,
Grandpa and Little son’s mind
Merge in one and imagine
the day of birth. Canal

Appeared to be glowing
As he made the final exit.
Loud hellos,
Laughters,
Soft swaddling and kiss…

Over six decades are
Condensed in five years,
Even after his dreams vanished
With autumn leaves,
He still has one clings to him–
Love–that grows against time.

©Byung A. Fallgren

 

A little hole in the tree root
A flawed shelter even for a mouse

But do you see the eager residents
Moving in ever so silently?

Little pebbles?
Yes. And …

Mind of the shameful wizard

 

© Byung A. Fallgren

 

 

 

 

 

We are the deep river appears to be
Slow and placid,
We seldom say ‘I love you,’
For we know we do after
All theses years together.
We may not kiss and hug in public
But for each other we worry and care
More than the skin-deep touch.

How ignorant to say:
‘They are not all the way up there.’

Nearly half a century of marriage
Means nothing to you?
Going through the thick and thin of
Thorny path that long means nothing to you?

No one can go that road for decades
Without love!

We deserve some respect more than
You ever know.

Only the rude and shallow streams
Dare to criticize the deep old river.

Our love for all and us flow
Till we cease and dry.

©Byung A. Fallgren 

only mindless
cloud-like ones
display
favoritism
without moral conscience

© Byung A. Fallgren

Comparing a person
to a sparrow that tries to fly
like a hawk
Comparing a person
to a fish that wants to walk on land

Unlike sparrow and fish,
Person can achieve anything
she or he wants to do
If goal isn’t met,
main culprit is wrong method or
lack of perseverance.

–Byung A. Fallgren