My father lives in my bones.
One day, I suddenly felt
The man named father didn't go far.
He lives in my bones.
Otherwise, why don't you lack calcium when you are 60 years old?
Besides, the hair is black.
I suddenly feel that in the past 50 years,
He's always been with me.
Like a shadow, long or short.
Follow me all the time
I never cared.
He was there when I climbed the stairs.
Accidentally grabbed the handrail.
Tired is a wall, or a big tree to lean on.
Or when I was a child, when I crossed the river.
Those stones under your feet.
In these fifty years, I have experienced many setbacks.
From the mountain road in front of the school
Corridor leading to the municipal government office building
Get up when you fall, but never be timid.
Is in the most difficult time.
I never chose to bow my head.
I think about it today. It all came from my father.
The taciturn one who died young.
But a very strong Kanto man.
He is in my bones.
Hold on for me.
Na Ren Qi Qige, Mongolian, member of Chinese Writers Association, national first-class writer, editor-in-chief of Poetry Appreciation. His works are scattered in People's Literature, Poetry Magazine, Stars, Poetry Tide, Poetry Forest, Poetry Monthly, National Literature, October and other publications. There is a collection of poems, On the scale of time, wrinkles are embedded in time, and the wind blows the grass low.
My pain, unspeakable sadness
Tears welled up in a sudden moment and swallowed with my father.
Life goes on-for the living and for more relatives.
We still have to smile.
Now, my father is between me, my husband and my daughter.
Smile, close your eyes and look at the beating candlelight-
Looking at the frost and snow sprinkled on my father's head by the years.
I also closed my eyes slightly to prevent tears from gushing out again.
My father once comforted me and said, "If God presses his neck, he has to hold on!" " !