
tonight
I am a ghost
navigating the galaxy
searching for the presaging star
of my youth
©Byung A. Fallgren

tonight
I am a ghost
navigating the galaxy
searching for the presaging star
of my youth
©Byung A. Fallgren

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 song of the pastel clouds
might as well be a carefree soul for the day.
© Byung A. Fallgren

like an obedient dog
waiting for his master
an old mailbox
waits for
its owner
Who hasn’t been inspired, one time or another, by countryside evening?
Even dingy, roadside prairie offers some poetic charm. Driving by the
countryside one evening, I was attracted by this weathered mailbox
whispered to me, “How’s it going, lady?” And I said, “Not too bad,
dude. Tomorrow will be better.” The last word lifted my somber mood,
and I found myself humming the rest way home.
–Byung A. Fallgren

Like the final work of
a retiring artist
receding ice on the lake
creates a bridge
seem dysfunctional, still
a majestic piece
like human, like nature.
© Byung A. Fallgren

In Wyoming we have snow storm even in April.
I’ve lived in the state for nearly three decades, and still I’m
struggling to get used to the weather! Lots of wind and long
winter. I like dry and clean air here though. There is no
perfect place, they say, which I agree. So, I’m stuck here and
love it.
–Byung A. Fallgren

Solid and fixed is my virtue, yet
flexible to shift at times
by friendly nudge or mindless thrust
that brings me no immediate change
some convivial soul draws on
my back a cartography
even the life of a stone has a shinny moment.
© Byung A. Fallgren

My books are free beginning April 14 and end April 18.
Visit, https://www.amazon.com/author/byungfallgren.
Also, my new book “Mystery Man’s Daughter” will be
available soon!
—Byung A. Fallgren

even the old place
seem so new
when we
are
together
© Byung A. Fallgren

When the earth bounces
beneath my steps
I know spring’s here,
sense of triumph,
having survived the
bitter days of winter.
With elation, sniff
the breeze, longing
for your scent,
envisioning our reunion.
Azaleas bloom and soon
the petals imitate snowflakes
your image within,
story of yesteryears, yet
when the mountain breeze redolent
my heart becomes the budding leaves.
©Byung A. Fallgren

and we
thought
we
were alone
telltale of the reflection
© Byung A. Fallgren