See the Smoke Again Prose Poetry

Why, after so many years

A kind of longing, always lingering, looming

And mother’s call, the smoke, the weeping willow

Roosters crow, dogs bark, and purple swallows under the eaves

Memory is bonded deep in the soul

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Small villa with gentle wind and bright scenery, carved beams and painted buildings< /p>

The windows are bright and clean, walking into my hometown, some old scenery

From the sky above the village, escaping into the dusk

Stored in the passing years, floating in the memory Fragrance

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Go into my hometown and taste the fragrance of flowers

Abandon a trace of desolation and embrace the warm sunshine

The path is no longer muddy , in the embrace of my hometown

Gently call a kind name

Light a round of incense and taste a cup of mellow old wine

Just to commemorate that love , that thought

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Walking into my hometown, I saw willows and flying flowers again

Smoke from cooking stoves and the sound of motors

In my memory The wheat field is a thing of the past

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