He was not my father, only then

His balmy eyes with a spring smile were
my father, whom i smiled at when i was a baby;
his sunny cheer on the first day of
my kindergarten was the seed of love, encouragement,
that empowered me throughout my life.

My father, the only father i've had, until one day,
my playful digging in the deep unearthed a piece
of shock that rattled my soul. my volcanic heart
could not bury in the dune of past.
i thought it was the end.
i listened to: whose love weighs more,
the one who saved you from the deep river
and nurtured you, or the one who discarded you
like a wad of flesh? The answer led me back to
the only father i knew.

© Byung A. Fallgren   

first appearance
of yellow leaves on the bough
autumn is in the air

a few crickets
chirp in the evening
Nature goes on

doves call
to each other from afar
soft summer heat  

© Byung A. Fallgren

At the Fair 

After browsing around with the beating August sun,
walking into the shady building with the cool air from
the fans is a sudden lift. The hot skin seemed to sigh of
relief, as the eyes dotting around the particular exhibitions:
homemade cookies and cakes, many flavored popcorns,
exotic clothes, and the coats made of fur and tails.
The little shop was full of fluffy garments, quiet as the
dead wild things. I touched the fur jacket, soft and silent.
Let my eyes linger on the tails hung on a rack. They seemed
wagging a little like they used to do as a fox, racoon, or other
tails would do with their friends. Only now, they cannot 
do more. Hope they had a good life before. Hope they were
all ready to return to the bosom of Mother Earth, before the
hunters intervene. My eyes linger on them, wishing to get one
as a keepsake. I turned to leave; for some reason, 
I want the fur to remain at the shop with the owner. 

© Byung A. Fallgren  

Fall 

To me, the word "Fall" wears good and not-so-pretty
Meanings. For example, the last time I had a fall,
I landed in an urgent care; also, it is a beautiful 
Season, Autumn, when the leaves are falling,
After their duties have been fulfilled, etc.
Our last name starts with Fall...
Our car's license plate is "2 Fall," which is him and me.
We fall only twice; each time, we bounce up.
O, such luck! I praise him for his choice of words.
Passing cloud jeers, "Fall only twice in a life time?"
The dove coos, "It is talisman."

Whatever they say, it doesn't change apple
into a pear. 

© Byung A. Fallgren

Even a Simple Bug Deserves Attention
(one of the health poems series)

Standing up with a sudden movement
Shouldn't cause an emergency,
Or maybe yes.

Severe dizziness and feeling weak,
Even after drinking water to hydrate,
That doesn't go away soon, should be resonable 
Enough to seek emergency care, especially,
If you are elderly, Medicare pays
Most of the bill. Why would you waste time,

Wondering if it is a simple bug,
While it broods to give a sly hug, by the seconds.
If it is a simple bug or bad hug,
The doc's diagnosis should clear 
Your possible anxiety attack. O, the savings. 

© Byung A. Fallgren  

In the Backyard

The grass is sunbasking;
As a bunny hops across the lawn;
The dragonfly, in the air, gloriously circling.

A sudden elegy of a cricket, singing
For the requem for the dead robin 
In the flower bed, in the evening.  

© Byung A. Fallgren 

Going to the Snowy Range in July

On a day in late July, we are going to
the Snowy Range in Laramie Wyoming,
driving through the dirt road; O, the cloud 
of dust, the fog of our youthful dreams, swirling
and chocking us, but no one complins:
the motorcyclists, the couple in an open jeep,
or, closed SUV, all smily and yelping. 
The snow-capped mountain peak ahead drums
to welcome the enthusiasts.

The reservior amid the forest of sweet pines
and green leaves; the sunlights are swiming 
as the fowls glide by. Dad and the son throw 
the line just to tease the fish. The forest floor,
purple and white is a platform for the dancing 
bees and butterflies; the singers 
in the distant, angelic. 
Who would not love the world like that?
The argument we had before lost the voice. 

Passing breeze sighs at the beautiful work of
Mother Nature. So do the clouds and we. 

© Byung A. Fallgren

Three Haiku

spraying pestcide
killing danelions and crikets
the beauties & singers

the neighbor's dog
kills wild bunnies for sport
coping humans

lawn grass
no need to be perfect green
love Mother's way

© Byung A. Fallgren

Taking Levothyroxine at 3 a.m.

It's supposed to be taken
when the stomach is deserted,
an hour before it is refreshing to start the day.
But I modified the doc's suggestion:
Taking it at 3 in the morning, which is 
my usual waking time, even when retired 
late. I keep it religiously,
to get the thyroid on track, to keep breathing
as long as I can, to see how the grandkids 
doing with their lives, to see where my penning days
end; will it be the purple-silk hill overlooking the sea,
or the familiar dune? O, I would not care, either way,
as long as my heart occasionally sings.  

© Byung A. Fallgren

A Time to Talk
Robert Frost 1874--1963

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed, 
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end-up and five foot tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
for a friendly visit.