Poems about spring in the first grade

"This is Beijing at 4: 08" Author: forefinger This is Beijing at 4: 08, and the sea of hands is turning; This is Beijing at 4: 08, and the shrill whistle sounds. The tall buildings in Beijing Railway Station suddenly shook violently. I looked out of the window in surprise, wondering what had happened. My heart suddenly hurts. My mother's buttoned needle and thread must have penetrated my heart. At this time, my heart became a kite, and the thread of the kite was in my mother's hand. The rope is too tight and will break, so I have to stick my head out of the window lattice of the carriage. Only then did I understand what had happened. -Wave after wave of farewell will sweep the station; Beijing is at my feet, moving slowly. I waved my arm at Beijing again, trying to grab his collar, and then shouted to her: always remember me, mom, Beijing! I finally caught something, no matter whose hand it is, I can't let go, because this is my Beijing and this is my last Beijing.