My poem, Spring Tree Song has been accepted to be published in the Avocet, a Journal of Nature Poetry, printed issue, Spring 2023. Thank you, Charles, Vivian and Valerie for taking this piece.
Reminder
Reminder Three autumns ago, he passed; why did she keep it from me for so long? Even her pet's death was moaned louder; why the question hides in my throat; a cautious balloon of fit pops, finding answers in the lovely picture-words of encouragement she'd send in evenings, lest I'd fall ill, with lingering claws. I'd seen and felt of bleakness in his empty room when I thought of him; like a worn feather on the snowy sand beach; her relief, after years of caring for him who would pay her by drinking and weeping. Words swirl in the smoke from the chimney, silent yet loud, brother; after that, peace; like the gossamer of light in the room. all things understood. ©Byung A. Fallgren
Hope within the Emptiness
Hope within the Emptiness the abandoned house by the mote with wooden fence collapsed daydreams a budding tulip eaten by senseless animal waits for another spring ©Byung A. Fallgren
Shades of the Night
Shades of the Night Her brother slipped away from the days of dreams and pains, unbeknown to her; while reading or thinking of the book "Story of Buddha" he gave her long ago. Every evening, her sister would send her the lovely pictures; her tears would drown in the sea of the encouraging lines, from abroad; but it could not stop her worry for her daughter moans of her life. she'd walk in the dream, listening to the beggar or robber; he'd kill if he doesn't get the money. The dirge from the radio woke her. Wind howls at the crescent moon; melting ice jeers; drink the tea of moon drop. ©Byung A. Fallgren
The Weekly Avocet
Behind Stowe
Behind Stowe Elizabeth Bishop I heard an elf go whistling by, A whistle sleek as moonlit grass, that drew me like a silver string To where the dusty, pale moths fly, And make a magic as they pass; A there I heard a cricket sing. His sing echoed through and through The dark under a windy tree Where glinted little insects' wings. His singing split the sky in two. The halves fell either side of me, And I stood straight, bright with moon-rings. Elizabeth bishop was only sixteen when the poem was published by The Blue Peniel in 1927. She was born February 8, 1911 in Massachusetts. She won the 1956 Pulitzer prize in poetry and winner of the 1970 National Book award. She died October 6, 1979.
Winter Berries, the Crow
Winter Berries, the Crow Red clusters of the seeds of dream; silent screams of time gone too soon, hanging from the bear branches; soft snow's empathy; lone crow ponders, if this beauty is what death looks like. He listens to the spirits of the season gone, in the nature, in the human voices that always gives him shiver, in the drifting snow from the pine trees, too profound to chew and swallow. He pecks the little berry; surprised by the firm grip on the community of its world; tilt his head, gaze more, feels the knot in his heart, with sudden yearning, he takes off. ©Byung A. Fallgren
The Weekly Avocet and more
My three poems, Depletion of Ozone Layer, Global Warming, Protecting Water source are published in this issue. Thank you, Charles, Vivian, and Valeri for taking my poems. Byung A.
Night Haiku
Night Haiku in the wee hours two owls hoot to each other wise winter night it happens at midnight a screech owl flies by my house shrills the climate change moon hides in the tree as rabbit skids on the ice spring won't be here soon ©Byung A. Fallgren
Winter Haiku
Winter Haiku no birds are flying but the drifting snow everywhere deep winter is here green juniper's branch sticks out through the snow on it what is going on the town under the snow so quiet, it is picturesque lone rabbit hops round under the deep snow nothing seems moving, even trees why the wind howls so clouds seem to tell us looking at the deep snow here put it to good use ©Byung A. Fallgren
Byung A. Fallgren 