Illusion

Illusion

Wile typing at dawn, I see, in my peripheral
vision, something stirs in the dark doorway
and drag itself toward my desk. Charlie?
I peer under my desk; seeing nothing, I sigh;
the cat's been gone for years now.

On the back porch, I gaze at the sky;
a head of a dragone looms over the cloud
and stares at me before vanishing.
It looks so real; my heart is still jumping.

I saw, in the store, my neighbor. when
I'm about to greet her, she shoots a leery
eyes and turn. What did I do? I want to
poke her head, but I just stared. all that
morning, the mad eyes stuck in my mind,
like a millions of maggots.

Later that afternoon, she sat on the porch
alone, drinking coffee. I sauntered over.
She says, "Come, sit."
Grabbing a chair, I studdy her smile and
noticed a swallon sty in her eye smearing her smile.
I laugh; the illusional day!
We chat for a while, as the ladies in gray.

© Byung A. Fallgren

The Empty House

The Empty House

There used to be a sign "Welcome"
outside of the front door, now gone;
the weathered garage door, with a
broken-glass hole, through which
a lonely ghost to stare at the familiar sign,
propped outside the door to the neighbor;
the ghost wonders, if no one comes, will
they also move away?

A counselor would say, "Reach out."
A wise one said, "Treat others as you would
like them do for you." If you want them to visite
you, do it yourself first. It should be mutual,
to be more going and enjoyable.

--Byung A. Fallgren