Modern poetry in the depths of straw

Seasonal countryside, overlooking the fields, floating fireworks, listening to an autumn rhyme with you in the depths of straw. Sorghum grains are biting, and ink spots are left on the red tassels.

Persimmon tree or hawthorn tree, whose fruit is the most mature, even narcissism is still outstanding.

Fields and dirt are the most silent feelings. From spring to autumn, walk side by side.

Autumn wind and autumn water have gone through three years, and a cavity has become a fruit full of branches.

Summer is over and there is still a long way to go. The stream in the mountain stream is the river where our hearts live.

In the woods, in Huang Ju, between drinking streams, hand in hand, laughing and romantic.

Along the current, we wear beautiful clothes, cross mountains and valleys, cut dresses in the east, cut Xia Hong in the west, hazy misty rain and romantic Ran Ran.

We are also attached to autumn, and the enduring density has turned into unparalleled yearning, and white clouds are rippling in eternity.

Autumn is also full of amorous feelings, sesame blossoms, sorghum bends, corn bows, melons and seedlings linger, ears of grain chase dreams, and autumn wind calls. The fragrance of the soul and the strength of the field are so heroic!