boulders and pines
reciprocate
with moisture
and shade
like good neighbors

©Byung A. Fallgren

Shadows of yesteryears
unseen, moans of pains,
toils, hopes echo, muted.
Cold winter days
faded into the longed

glory earned, leaving the
shack behind, wishful thought,
not cloud vain, wordless wind.
The empty dwelling embraces
the memory lived, dreamed.

As the star’s song of happy
ending fades, golden
sunbeam cheers the new
beginning of the season, lifts
the spirit of the passerby.

© Byung A. Fallgren

after decades
of pulling task
the retiree
wonders if he’s
overlooked a needy

© Byung A. Fallgren

Most of times
it’s nearsighted,
wrong impression
flutters round

in the hazy field and
hills. Daydreams,
hopes, false belief
shouts from the top

of mountain then
plunge into the
dark sea, let us chase
the ghostly glimmer.

In the end, we
realize it, the trick
of fool’s wings,
better avoid it.

© Byung A. Fallgren

feels like
canceling
the first date
or breaking
a lovely vase

—Byung A. Fallgren

Born to be rough and
shabby, beauty is not
in my bone. Unlike the

broken-hearted homely
toad on a starry night,
no tears and sorrow

but accept, forgo
My nature of loving
lonely soul as the

boulder-like makes me
feel as beautiful inside
as any beauties, and

I thrive on my
wisdom of adapting
any harsh milieu

© Byung A. Fallgren

Ones
Who
Lack morals
Are viruses
In the society

Ruler
With no moral
Takes away
Our rights
Manipulate our dreams

Moral
Makes us human
Different from others
Society
Without it is sick

This poem is prompted by the post that questioned, “How
important is moral in our society?” This is an addition to
my brief response to that post as well. Sometimes, tried
and true subject as this rings true freshly.

© Byung A. Fallgren

Color of beginning
Is silver green
Of youthful dream
Color of end
Is thoughtful magenta
Of wise old soul
We begin with fanfare
End with silent prayer
Insatiable lust
Spirit of returning
As strong and
Resilient as ocean wave

©Byung A. Fallgren

windblown paper
troublesome articles
same as yesterdays
yet bloodshot eyes
looking for you

©Byung A. Fallgren

Winter beach harbors
prickly stowaways
tugging at the scarf
windblown, like burls,

like humans, despair,
try to remove them,
and get a little surprise,
red bead of bleeding soul.

© Byung A. Fallgren