Pale sun
Flowing with lazy monotonous light.
On the window pane
Stabilize the tired and dim shadows of trees
The teacher used a small pointer.
Point to the words on the blackboard.
Correct the children's pronunciation
Such mechanical empty reading
It lasted all afternoon.
The light is getting weaker and weaker
Classrooms in rural schools are trapped.
It's a blur
Suddenly a student pointed out of the window and shouted.
Melissa Zhou.
I don't know when.
Snowflakes are like goose feathers.
Fall gracefully
The students are very noisy.
Gush out of the classroom
The teacher's little pointer
Knock on the blackboard, bang.
The whole empty school
boil
Snowflakes keep falling.
the four seas—the whole country
Become bright
We chased the snow.
Snowflakes fall on us
In the hair
On the eyelashes
neck
human body
Trembling in the cold warmth
It's under our clothes
Desire chirps happily
Snowflakes have changed.
The pattern of the whole afternoon
That pent-up happiness
During our long adolescence.
Memories of Childhood Prose Poems 2 Random Thoughts on Reading Tracking by Yi Shan. Everyone reads an article in a different way, because everyone has a different taste. In this review, I saw the beating notes, the pace of growth and the interest of the years. Hunger or poverty, cold or disease, we grow all the way. Looking back, the footprints we passed were so clear. Laughter and tears are both expressions of happiness. They are all waves in happiness, shining brilliantly in time. I think this is why we are strong inside.
Yan Ge
Childhood memory
It's a flat surface on the fingertip.
Slip away in the distance with dreams
I wish I could fly slower and farther.
Fantasy through the clouds
Today's paper plane
Lying quietly on the lawn of memory
In a trance, I heard
The roar of the motor and the cheers on the grass
/
Childhood memory
It is a shining and transparent earth.
The children who came back from the pasture walked slowly on the ridge of the field.
I hope the horizon burns longer.
Look up at the canopy.
Staring at the dancing fairy.
Today's sunset
The sky is still beautiful.
In a trance, I saw it.
On the potholed path
Smiling face made of copper.
/
Childhood memory
It's mottled moss under the eaves
The thin black soil is green and quiet.
I wish the footprints of Parthenocissus tricuspidata.
Can climb the skylight of wooden lattice
With my eyes
Explore the secrets in the cracks.
Today's "old house"
The rafters left traces of time.
The sturdy flippers of Parthenocissus tricuspidata.
Fluctuating the smell of old houses
-
Childhood memory
That is a small jujube tree in the garden.
Abrupt thorn and dark red birthmark.
I wish I could plant tillers with me.
Open the livid body.
Today's jujube
Vibrant literature of the Qing Dynasty.
A sharp torso
Standing in the four seasons of wind, frost, rain and snow
/
In the memory of childhood
In a trance, I saw myself in the streamer.
Full of confidence and joy
Staggering towards me with open arms.
Black eyes
A little encouragement.
Delicate little hands
Hold on to the pulse.
Soft fine hair
Comb every nerve.