Your voice is
scratchy today, dear,
heavy, a metal ball
sunken in deep ocean,
for you worked
hard all day long,
to my mind,
it’s a gentle rustle of
autumn leaves,
for I hear you
with my heart.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Amongst
lack lusters
a gem
waits to be
discovered

*
Between the withered
petals, underneath soft
piles of the decaying
leaves, faded beauty
reflects on
the warm kisses,
dazzling smiles,
sweet aroma,
precious jewels of
memories,
hidden gem
amongst lack luster,
beneath the frost
she mends her
wings for tomorrow.

To my friend Regina, whose husband left her for
a younger woman: You are still beautiful.

Written by Byung A. Fallgren.
Image by Collin Andrew Maag.

We gathered on the doorstep
with the moonlight,
dazed by the balmy night,

yearning for the alfalfa and
wild roses, getting ready to fly

away. If only we knew an ol’ man
would spray the kill-mist,
cussing, “Teenage box elder bugs!”

If only we knew snowstorm would
pass through our way. In spite of
all that calamity,

some of us still hanging in
there. Like the ancients, we’ll
rebound; multiplying stars
in the purple field, redolent.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Life is a painting
in process;
we pause
to examine
it as an artist would
to assess the piece,
value of color,
smudged spot,
unbalanced composition..
we adjust and
steer it, yet
it tends to slip
backward like
a wayward child,
some fret and angry,
while others continue
on toward the light.

Recently an elderly man in our community has set
fire on his house and shot himself. Reason for his action
is not clear yet. It could be financial problem or loneliness.
This is one of many such tragedies in America. One wonders
why we call our country rich nation when our social security
system is inferior to others’ such as Germany, Japan, South
Korea, for example. Loneliness can be solved if we reach out
each other. Simple, kind act can save lives.

By Byung A. Fallgren

Yesterday’s passion is
too precious to let go
down stream without
some fruition

every bit of our effort
tucked in beneath the ice,
we reflect, re-plan, assure
the low hanging clouds
final solution

failure, the necessary villain
on the path, ignore offering hands;
no one knows us better
than we do

more of ardent shift and turn
grasp the thread, and we are glad
we haven’t let it slide by

Photo, written by Byung A. Fallgren

All my youth I’ve been
searching for my dream
in the sea of blue world
Now that I’m old-young
still I’m hoping
A masochist or
placid idiot, I don’t care
what they say
My endeavor will go on
until the sea turns into me and
I, the sea, for all I have is the
tenacity.

by Byung A. Fallgren

Despite my deny
my mind
is a sailboat
without wind
when you are gone

— Byung A. Fallgren