Fog pervades modern poetry.

Five o'clock in the morning

Fog and mist

Heavy fog blocked the road.

It's locked, too

My eyes

At this time, the early risers are

All the children

I try to wear them to school.

The journey is slow.

go for a walk

Along the way

The fog is wet and thick.

Even street lamps are just

Tear the sky of the city

A small corner and a small corner

Pedestrians in a hurry

A hurried pedestrian

Along the way

The fog is thick and heavy.

Hold out your hand.

Twist out a handful of water.

look into the sky

The sky turned into thick fog.

Floating at your feet

It's like Genesis

It's a mess

Walk to the square without meaning.

It used to be my favorite place.

A place to play tai chi

What familiar music.

But I'm on the side

Tidy up messy hair

As we approach the bushes,

Look at those in tune.

A group of people shook their hands and waist.

Step on the pace, body and mind are hot.

on the way home

The line of sight is clearer

See countless cars

Staring at red eyes

Exhale tail gas like fog.

It is also near the Wohe sluice.

The bridge couldn't help looking at it.

Water and the sky are the same.

Where can I see clearly?

A warm and loving home

Standing on the bank of the vortex river

But I know that going home

-Journey

Home won't move

Walking on the bridge, the fog is as cold as rain.

I realized that I should

Go home covered with frost and snow

Because I saw it on the road.

Others-Hair like snow