My three poems appear in the Weekly Avocet--#497. 
Thank you, Charles, Vivian, for taking these pieces. 

She'll be smarter, just like us
              For my granddaughter

On a spring day, a couple of robins
decide to build a nest, by the fake owl
whose duty is to scare away woodpeckers
drilling holes in the wall.

What is in the bird-mind? Let the owl babysit
their chicks; smarter than John on the street.

They sing joyfully when the three chicks 
emerged from the eggs; tell the owl to watch
their precious ones, while they search worms.

One night, an owl falls in love with the fake one,
then realizes he is wrong. But he finds the serendipity.
the three chicks in the nest.

The following day, the robins notice the empty nest.
In fury, she swoops over the cat scared and run away.

O-ho-ho, she laughs at the coward cat.
Sitting on the post, she grieves her lost chicks,
then flies away. Time to rebuild a new nest.
This time she will be smarter; just like us.

©Byung A. Fallgren

Pursuing the goal in doubt

It's like a smile of no face.
Smile back, for it is 
the only armor against the doubt.

Go on, with all your might;
dance along the dry river 
unknown, sing as the poet.

In the end you are the wise one,
or you don't do it.

©Byung A. Fallgren

My two poems View on the side of the Road and The Doe 
have been accepted for the Summer printed issue of 
The Avocet, a journal of Nature Poetry--2022. 
Thank you, Charles and Vivian for taking these pieces. 

–Byung A.

Flying with the New Songs of the Clouds

Being a minimalist, I used to throw a lot of
things; caught in the frenzy of moment, some
valuables would disappear; then panic, search
in every hill and valley, like the mad woman
in the dream.

The selfie, with the idiotic smile, crumpled and
trashed long ago, haunts, jeers: 
with the original one gone, no way to make another.
lost not only the image but the time also,
acting on impulse,

the echo of the youthhood. Faces suddenly flash,
gloat, for had been tossed off, like the wads of useless
pieces. a pang in the deep; take a deep breath and smile.
They happened for reason, keep them where they 
were, fly off with the new songs of clouds,
and the ghost of failed one will live only in the dream.
Change within. 

©Byung A. Fallgren

Ocean Water
Dasha Kelly Hamilton

The ocean pushes back
Alive and vigorous 
The heritage of habitat
Leans against expectation
Muscles its due respect
Without regard
Without warning
Without reorienting the ones
With swimming perspectives
Limitations of consistent temperature 
and painted cement walls

The ocean rumbles its sovereignty 
Full weight of freedom on my skin. 

Dasha Kelly Hamilton is a writer and performance 
artist. She is National Rubinger Fellow and currently 
Poet Laureate for the city of Milwaukee and the 
State of Wisconsen. In 2021, she received an 
Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship. 

Most of Wyoming trees, the lesson (Gogyohka Sequence) 

in April
still asleep
shivering in the wind
like the children
in the war-torn land

in May
start budding
or flowering
like just awaken
lazy person in a hurry

sudden snowstorm
blankets the flowering trees
shuddering at the unexpected
after storm passes
dazzling smile

Wyoming trees'
lesson:
face the disaster
be patient
then rebound

©Byung A. Fallgren 

junipers don't need 
to be pruned by human 
nature did already

children don't need 
to grow under parental pressure
just put them in right track

what happens 
in woman's body
her choice

©Byung A. Fallgren

The Doe

when her son
was excluded
she
walks with him
in the night 


Sleep Aid

awake 
in the wee hour
no problem,
read book,
works better than pills


Rattle

wind 
blows all night
rattling the satellite dish
on the roof
for the rotten news

©Byung A. Fallgren

Windy Backyard Wisdom

Winds blow over
the white and green,
cascades from the hill
to the open, rippling in
silver gray, in hopes,

raise them into the air
and blow them away.
But they stay formidable,
roots in the soil,
like the stubborn youths’ will
to keep their land,

rebel against the invaders.
The ripples grow to sea waves,
claw the florets and blades, in vain;
the wings mean to fly,
the roots mean to stay,
like the incompatible lovers.

©Byung A. Fallgren