Blue of dreams (group poems)

hometown

The train roared by. The railroad tracks hung overhead.

Chew the night and moonlight. Run with fire

I ran away from home with a trace of melancholy in my dream.

I once read aloud after being drunk. The sun and the moon. faraway place

I can't go back. Cann't leave

The shadow of childhood refused to melt in the snow.

The scarred land is full of tears and rain.

People who leave home, their souls crawl on the way home.

Blurred face. Clear thoughts

Years, at the speed of a flower withering, flow on my forehead.

The dark green mailbox can no longer hold the connotation of a home letter.

A glass of wine invites the bright moon. Drunk homesickness

A poem with a bunch of wine. Grow into a hometown

foreign country/land

For many years, memory is a new snow after another.

Drowned in the rain in the south

The south is a foreign land. I am in a foreign land. In a dream

Write your surname on a leaf.

The handwriting is like crazy grass.

Searching for ancestors' genes in veins

Crops in poetry. Lover. Sunset and rain

It's an echo from other places.

The moon in the water. Shake the sound of the cable

I found the memory of my hometown through a pool of water.

The people lying on the haystack listening to the story are scattered.

All my clothes have a local accent.

The smell of earth

The taste of Chili peppers

The taste of sea breeze

I cooked a pot of southern accent myself.

Drinking in front of a poem.

I can't tell whether I am the wine in the poem or the poem in the wine.

Return to hometown

There is no brocade. Go home with once melancholy.

Between skin and clothes, there is a clock ticking.

Blue is necessary for life. Cut into brocade and flowers

Write it in rice, oil and salt, and write it in the fruit that blooms in the sun.

Back home, I took the line from my mother.

Pull out some figurative words

A simple village. Jingle fireworks and my clothes

Language has some weightlessness.

Turn years of separation into a glass of wine.

Go back to your hometown. Go somewhere else. To mother, to the voice of ancestors and the land.

Hometown of wine

Passing Yanghe Town, not my hometown. It's not a foreign land.

It's the smell soaked in bones. It's my hometown with a faint blue color in my dream.

The deepest miss, here, stretches the legend of the dispatcher.

Poetry. Homesickness. Love. Autumn in the sun

Become a cup of life with a drop of water.

Touching the depths of the sea, a tear flowed past.

Blue classic. Twilight shaking the cellar. Tear the joys and sorrows of the world

The color with the shortest wavelength is eternal. It's the sky and the sea, it's the silent stone.

Let me see the joys and sorrows, and see the wheat awn stab into the eternal sky.

Passing by Yanghe Town, I overheard the song of Grains.

Just refer to the connotation of 369.

It is a noun. It is a verb, it is an adjective, it is a symbol and a sign.

It's a full moon in Taibai golden urn.

Dream blue

Every cure for pain is written on your resume.

Dreams are poems. Blue is wine. The wound is the moon.

Blue poetry and dream wine,

Write on the wound

Dig a well in my hometown to save two fires.

Waiting for the passion to die. Heat the pot

Light a symphony at dusk

Let the night return to the dream

I am in the wild Lingnan.

In view of instantaneous aging

Obsessed with the hidden waves in the sky

Intercept a fireworks in a foreign country. Hanging in the night sky

Drink with the string moon

No matter what color the wind is.

Must give in to the cup.

When I walked out of a hundred thousand mountains

The smell of wine has not dissipated.

In the days of returning home.

I am never satisfied with running water.

Let's go south, eat meat in chunks and drink in big bowls.

Later, I got drunk when I was writing a poem.

3D sadness, twist out the taste of green lemon.

When passing by the wine country, my dream was infinitely magnified from a singularity.

I saw the original blue.

Hanging on your fingertips. Brewed by years

A drop of inspiration

Fill in the blanks one by one

I have a dream.

Let Yanghe Town be my hometown.

Let the classic blue

Become my color

The winning works of "Dream Blue" national poetry essay contest will be copied. )