Imagine a day without humans.
No language, no thick nasal sounds.
Leaves rustle, busy ants build cities and wait for the rainstorm.
I can only bless them.
Leaves look up at the sky and are not worried about being cut down.
Weeds are waiting to sprout.
No ruts and dada's hooves.
An old vine enjoys a happy life.
There is no smoke in the running water of the small bridge.
The old door is covered with moss like a song.
The window was broken and the sun climbed onto the desk.
Flip it at will and the bookmark will slide like a hanging hand.
The exhaust pipe is confessing
Through the smoke, a naked moon
The fluctuating shadow is not afraid of ghosts.
The concrete floor you walked on, the steel castle you lay on.
Thorns surrounded them.
The last traces are disappearing and new leaves are growing.
Words in the book can't escape.
The player's voice stopped.
Your 12 goldfish has melted.
Wildflowers that can't be picked jump on the eaves.
The huge glass curtain wall is the leaf of Parthenocissus tricuspidata.
Sunflowers declare sovereignty or victory on the roof.
More sunshine, more rain.
Look from east to west
The only constant is addition and subtraction or only zero.
Human hands are too small.
The road of two thousand years is full of vicissitudes.
The cold wind whirls low and the fruit of wisdom withers.
Like the rout hundreds of millions of years ago.
The next truth of this world has been thoroughly learned.
The mission of the human bridge has been completed.
All that's left is to wait and turn into fossils.
So that it will be exhausting to study our glorious bones and empty eyes in the future.
Please keep a comfortable posture from palm to heart.
Don't flash your waist when you are old.
Young people bring a toy as company!
Food is no longer just for eating, but also for sleeping.
The scarecrow drowned in the drooping head of the golden rice field.
The sickle rusted in the pond.
The teeth of the thresher are free.
In the days when there are no dead people, crows are silent.
An egret dressed as a deep-water cow stood on its back and learned to think from then on.
Four eyes, four stories, four lives.
Wild geese fly south, wishing an arrow could pierce the clouds.
The partridge croaked, this time for being drunk.
Bauhinia doesn't like Hong Kong feet.
The polar bear puts on his shoes.
A day without humans
hieroglyph
Poetry and its lover
I decided to become Zongzi V in May.