When I was a child, I often missed raindrops.
Perhaps, those clear and cool water drops will bring the unique free and happy mood of childhood.
Whenever the rainy season comes
I hurried to find my poetry collection, and I was glad to find it, found it.
I met many people on the road, and they all shook their heads and said, this ugly girl is really strange. She should always let chickens, ducks and geese sing the popular songs of the village girls.
And I, still desperate, just bowed my head.
……
I've grown a lot over the years.
Looking back suddenly, I found that
It turns out that my poem of Xiaoya has long been lost with the rustling leaves in the autumn wind.
When winter comes, they are buried deep in the snow.
I tried to find those poems full of happiness and dreams again.
I guess they must have melted in the green spring rain in the warm embrace of sunshine.
So, along the familiar path in my hometown, I came to the old river to reflect the new green.
I was surprised to find some vague handwriting. When I reached out to pick them up, those lovely elves drifted away playfully, and never came back without me.
Just leave me in an old story and become a stiff statue, weird and silent.
Even my favorite poem, in my sleepy dream, with gentle footsteps like drizzle and hazy expectation, but when I got up to chase, my world and I were falling, falling ... as if caught in an endless cycle. ...
Seven-color satin looks beautiful, but it's Schisandra chinensis. It is sour, sweet, bitter, spicy and astringent.