Modern poems about insects

◎Morning fog

The morning fog lingers above the forest. The breath of the trees

is sometimes thick and sometimes light, and it condenses into dew on the leaves

Rolling and merging into a huge dewdrop

Wrapping the forest in a green dream

The birds are still sleeping, and there is a lot of snoring in the grass

and half of a butterfly wing flickered

The dew made the shadows deeper, and the forest was full of quiet water drops.

Sound

In the distant mountain col, the morning light has gradually risen like debris

The iron roof is wet, and the smoke is wet

I don’t know how long it will take, insects Only from the back of the leaves

turn over the leaves, dry the wings, and rustle and sing