Hey, you are standing under the fluffy banyan tree by the pool. Have you forgotten that child, like the bird that built its nest on your branch and left you?
Don't you remember how he sat at the window and looked at your tangled roots in surprise?
Women often go to the pool to draw a basin full of water, and your big shadow shakes on the water, like a sleeping person struggling to wake up.
Sunshine dances on the microwave, like a small shuttle weaving a golden carpet.
Two ducks are beside the reed, swimming in the shadow of the reed, and the child sits there quietly thinking.
He wants to be the wind, blowing through your rustling branches; Want to be your shadow, grow up with the sun on the water; Imagine a bird perched on your tallest branch; I also want to be those two ducks, swimming between reeds and shadows.