Tanka
(without syllable count)
last night
insomnia dead
slept all night
wake up at dawn
and plan to travel
(with syllable count)
to see the sibling
in a hundred somber years
I try to look good
alas, the old age doesn't allow me
why care? Just be as I am
©Byung A. Fallgren
Weekly Avocet and more
My poem What Raven Tells You and Raven, the memory are published in this issue.
Thank you, Charles, Vivian, and Valeri, for taking the pieces.
–Byung A.
More Haiku
More Haiku
blacktop road
glistens with melting snow
mirrored sky
some leaves skid
after the street sweeper
always more to do
©Byung A. Fallgren
Two Haiku
Two Haiku
the first snow descends
busy cleaning the dust-ridden air
cool election day mood
leaves under the snow
wait for the snow to melt away
falling is not fun
©Byung A. Fallgren
The Weekly Avocet
Winter
Winter
is the time not to hibernate
but stay indoors to catch up
to learn the wise ones in the book,
to grow a less painful garden.
I stand in the window often,
eyes skipping, gliding, as the leaves
on the street frolic or fly, forgetting
everything, like the retirees.
My feet itch to go out,
as the brain flags restraint.
Why not start the ski lesson
given up long ago.
The brain shivers even to consider it;
the neck stiffens at the thought.
Just go for a short walk.
I bundle up with a coat and a scarf;
step into the dozing-deep snow in the sun,
and let the bossy Bailey lead the way.
©Byung A. Fallgren
The Weekly Avocet
no title
No title
The night thoughts flee.
Too quick to take notes, but
one thing, a fine line on the
word rolling in the mist.
Would you allow the
bullying thrust?
Is it the insinuating heat wave
of the rock behind the boulder?
You would not dwell on it.
Each moment is gold,
now, the fragile hour.
©Byung A. Fallgren
October
October
Mountain waves at me
dressed in a gold-studded cloak,
as the sun dances
on the lake.
What does it greet me for
in such a beautiful attire and passion?
©Byung A. Fallgren
Byung A. Fallgren 