Love blows its wind.
Make waves in my blood.
I like the sheepskin raft above.
I like poor mountains and canyons.
That's my mom
Wrinkles
Love the child who grows up in its body.
I hear they have more children.
warm blood
Through the umbilical cord of the newborn.
Swallows from the south
Look at them in circles.
Skim over mother's head.
Under the eaves of the old house
Built a new home.
I have a bag with me.
A burst of peach blossom fragrance
Mother's loess plateau blood