When thoughts are
dried river,
emotion,
budding thorn,

fall back and soak
the tired wings
in the cool lake,

peep the world through
the latticework
of sanity, and
even the irritating
sarcasm’s
laughable,

find a quality
even in  the gnarled
deadwood.
Still I try.

© Byung A. Fallgren

pondering shadows
of the day
lamplight
imbue a wisdom
into the evening

© Byung A. Fallgren

We
try and reach
for the silver sky
sprinkles ice crystals
song of wordless spring

© Byung A. Fallgren.com

once dying hill
in the flame
blue lake
shudders at the memory
laughing budding leaves

© Byung A. Fallgren.com

Thorny words of yesterday
somber air today

brooding rain clouds
deep water between us

like crescent moon, once in a while,
we steal a glance of our corners

despite all, sometimes, we keep our doors ajar.

© 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