on the shadowed hill
winter sun
chases the late afternoon
as the stroller
retrieves the passion

© Byung A. Fallgren

Enduring dry chill
Like soldier, when
I was on
Point of regress,
She came to imbue me
An idea of
Her methodical journey
To rise.
I watch as she slowly
Vanishes.
Game of time,
Law of tyrant.
Some efforts to
Hold is
Gripping onto wind.

© Byung A. Fallgren

nothing
grows on winter tree
a false assertion
sometimes quasi truth
curves your belief

© Byung A. Fallgren

Retreat and ponder
the surge from highland,
venture up the hill where
the days of longing,
curiosity mirrored,
youthful fantasy
evaporated, reach for

the sky, wave with envy
at the birds. Comply to
the time of withdrawal,
grateful to the season for
the opportunity. Ceaseless
desire, watch the land ling
grow, wither,

wait for next swell–glee!

© Byung A. Fallgren

footprint in winter soil
memory of yesterday
silent claim of
the survivor’s note
ephemeral beauty

(c) Byung A. Fallgren

Under the snow
prickly burls
honey youth
in doldrums
dream to depart

Moisture
of the snow
unconditional love
keeps whimsical soul
from blown adrift

©Byung A. Fallgren

strolling on the winter beach
prickly burls on my heel
seek for a warm home
recall the stray puppy
last Christmas eve

©Byung A. Fallgren

harbors some star qualities:
silent grace, prince of witness,
discourages the thieves stealing
the gold nuggets,

life line of the strivers.
Shaken in indignation, tries to
find a merit in the caged ability;
if you cannot change it, love it.
What happened to the weeping

young man in downpour?
At the end of season, doubts
unanswered, quests half-fulfiled,
with the seeds of possibility,
dreams on.

©Byung A. Fallgren

wayward wind
indulges in
spirits of autumn leaves
like smart youth
befriends a wise old man

©Byung A. Fallgren