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
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on seeking for reassurance
tonight
I am a ghost
navigating the galaxy
searching for the presaging star
of my youth
©Byung A. Fallgren
To be carefree for the day
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
prairie evening charm
like an obedient dog
waiting for his master
an old mailbox
waits for
its owner
Who hasn’t been inspired, one time or another, by countryside evening?
Even dingy, roadside prairie offers some poetic charm. Driving by the
countryside one evening, I was attracted by this weathered mailbox
whispered to me, “How’s it going, lady?” And I said, “Not too bad,
dude. Tomorrow will be better.” The last word lifted my somber mood,
and I found myself humming the rest way home.
–Byung A. Fallgren
like human, like nature
Like the final work of
a retiring artist
receding ice on the lake
creates a bridge
seem dysfunctional, still
a majestic piece
like human, like nature.
© Byung A. Fallgren
Days of a Stone
Solid and fixed is my virtue, yet
flexible to shift at times
by friendly nudge or mindless thrust
that brings me no immediate change
some convivial soul draws on
my back a cartography
even the life of a stone has a shinny moment.
© Byung A. Fallgren
Love
even the old place
seem so new
when we
are
together
© Byung A. Fallgren
Sun, trees, and us
and we
thought
we
were alone
telltale of the reflection
© Byung A. Fallgren
An ode to siblings
A cluster of berries
so unique that we can
recognize amongst
busy crowds,
even when we are apart
we are always together
in our heart. When
on’s missing we can tell
in a glance,
when one sheds tears
we suffer, when on’s happy
our hearts sing, for we are
the same branch and
root. We love one another
until we wither and fall.
It’s been two years since one of my sisters’ passing. I
regret I seldom visited her when she was alive, living
so far away. While growing up, she and I were close.
Once she told me about her friend’s story: her father
disappeared when she was two. And she wanted to
find him. After that, I hadn’t heard of her story.
Now, using my imagination, I’ve written a new novel
“Mystery Man’s Daughter.” I’ve been rewriting and
editing it, which ended up creating a totally different
character than I had thought. I hope I’ll get it done soon.
But I don’t want to rush. My goal is to get it done as
perfectly as I can.
© Byung A. Fallgren
Retreating March
Little ripples on the shore, the tease of
moisture drop on the wakening lake
little minnow jig dances,
bidding a farewell to the melting ice
as a fisher man fills his
tackle box with fly and worm
March retreats like a wise soldier.
© Byung A. Fallgren
Byung A. Fallgren 