On the Gray Morning 

doves recite dirge 
sparrows chatter in anger
pigeons banter
old man grumbles in the kitchen;
poet rummages in the sky for a pen;

they all wait for the sun sing. 

©Byung A. Fallgren

Suddenly he was there

Limper, I used to call him,
for his limping leg, after the day's
walk with his mom, when he was 
very young, turned into a disaster:
when a hungry coyote chased on him;
he ran so fast that he broke his leg.
since then, his mom was beside him;
even when he was excluded by the group;
she was with him wherever he went.

When his little fuzzy antlers turned to 
strong and grand, he began to be alone;
nightly visit to the back yard, also alone;
he'd eat the fallen apples alone;
he'd forage the grass all alone.
Summer slipped into the autumn and winter.

Then one summer night, he was there on the 
street, walking, limping, with his five does
behind; his great antlers pointing
at the moon.  
Marching in such a solemn silence,
would glance only once at the eyes 
behind the dark window.

He doesn't seem to remember the lady and the dog;
the dog who chased away the coyote from him ;
but the lady is all tears of joy of seeing him all grown;
with five does of his family!

©Byung A. Fallgren


 

My poem The Invisible Cloud is published in this week's journal. 

Thank you, editors, for taking the piece again for The Earth Day. 

--Byung

When the night thoughts flee

Too quick to take a note, but
one thing, a fine line on the word
rolling in the misty field;
what is it?
would I allow the bullying?
or, is it the insinuating heat wave
of the rock behind the boulder?
Simmer, resign;
I would not dwell on it;
go on; each moment is a gold,
now; the fragile hour. 

©Byung A. Fallgren

My Haiku is published in this week's journal. Thank you, Chales, Vivian, and Valerie, 
for taking the piece. --Byung

Untimely

my heart
drops in question
as nature
drive her away
smiling as she goes

--Byung A. Fallgren

Adjusting

when cold wind 
on your back
simply 
turn the back
against the wind

©Byung A. Fallgren

Four Haiku of my work are published in this week's journal. 
Thank you, Charles, Vivian, and Valerie for taking the pieces. 

--Byung 

Buds

some buds 
are ready
some not
worries of 
capricious wind

Crocuses 

sprouts
eaten by a deer
wait for 
next 
spring

©Byung A. Fallgren