Cuckoo cried a few times, but it was still the familiar, round and kind voice.

I didn’t see it. The sound came from the woods under the slope. The clear sound was round, but it seemed to be lonely and there was no response from my companions.

It was all kinds of other birds that answered it, but it was just a noisy voice. Pheasant suddenly flew up and rattled, the bird broke in garden balsam, and a bird I am familiar with but unknown, the sound is dry and boring.

The woods are already dense, just a mountain ditch is blankly crowded green. I don’t know what is in the woods. I can’t see it. But I believe that there are all kinds of things there, but suddenly they seem so far away, just like the strange and familiar world and the strange and familiar crowd in front of me.

The sky is cloudy, but it is inexplicably bright everywhere. It seems that the sunshine has squeezed through the clouds inexorably. Tomorrow will be full. Maybe the sunshine in summer is not allowed to be dark. The TTL in the distance still stood there quietly without saying a word. It seemed that it had not changed in spring, summer, autumn and winter. It must not see me, it is history, and I, an ant, is not counted.

The wind is very strong, but without dust or chill, it looks boring. It seems to want to drive me away and drive me away from this world, disappear to a place where I can’t see myself, turn into dust and blend into the clouds.

A magpie, black and white, clean, flew from the woods and landed on the branch of a locust tree. The wind blew its feathers into a whirlpool. It tried hard to fly again, trying to fall on the treetops of another tree, but it didn’t succeed. The Treetop has been blown into a whirlpool by the wind. It can’t find a place to stay. The vortex is like tens of millions of pushing hands and tens of millions of soft but Cruel whips, reject its foothold. Therefore, it had to sink into the green ocean helplessly and disappeared.

It does not call. It’s like me who sank in this sea and bowed my head all day long.

The wind is very strong. When I burn paper money for you, the wind forced me not to let me give it to you one by one. For my obstinacy, it severely burned my hand. Therefore, I had to press it with a lump of earth and burn it once. Under the mound, layers of paper money ashes were still shrinking in the wind.

I sat next to you, smoking a cigarette and whispering to you. The epidemic has been basically controlled. The children have gone to school. The baby is more sensible and taller. Last year’s clothes are smaller this year. The wind is very strong. I don’t know if you can hear it clearly. You must know when you look at us in the sky. I just came to talk to you. After that, my heart will be quiet for a few days. At that time, you did all these things, and you must not rest assured.

The wheat is already apricot. A month ago, they were hidden in the bushes and I couldn’t see them. The time passed so fast that the string of white acacia flowers had no trace, while the black brown color pods hanging on the tree were still last year’s. All of a sudden, these small elms in front of your grave are so tall. Two years ago, I didn’t see them at all.

In the evening, my baby suddenly wanted to sing cuckoo to me for no reason. I listened to his singing and couldn’t help crying.

Cuckoo is screaming,

Singing moving songs,

Singing to the sad person,

Forget everything……

Just, how can I forget it?

May 19, 2020

Zan (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) remember the past, a little more youth without any regrets

Lao Gen said: I have a new idea. Draw the scene of Nangang reservoir more carefully. Let’s remember the past and have more youth…

Silly girl

Before last October, I worked and lived in Hongqiao town. This is an ordinary small town in southern Sichuan, the only one that can highlight local characteristics…

You have to go, I will go with you

Recently, I have been listening to teacher Jiang Xun talking about a dream of Red Mansions. I really think it is quite good! He said such an interesting…

Birthday soul

I stood up and stared at the kind name on your tombstone. The warmth of the tombstone gradually dispersed. I raised my head and the sky was clean…

Liu Ma and her son

Wang Xin, the eldest son of Liu Ma, finally became a family at the age of 32, but she always felt uneasy. The ins and outs of things are really difficult…

The Gleaners under the persimmon tree

Lao Gen was silent and a little sad. He thought of Xiaofang, who had liked him when he was young. (Xiaofang: now they are educated young people who liked the countryside…

Related Posts