A poem praising mother

1, the story of spring

Spring days

Mother, drag her there.

A rickety waist

Busy for three days.

She packed the rice produced in her hometown in four snakeskin bags.

She packed a dozen catties of homemade sauerkraut and a dozen pieces of bacon.

She killed two domesticated ducks and put them in an incubator.

She killed two autotrophic hens and put them in an incubator.

She planted garlic seedlings, Chinese cabbage and the whole Laiyuan.

She put the cakes, sweets, drinks and the whole old house left at home during the Spring Festival.

Except for her and her father, she packed everything into her relatives' van.

The car is heading for Zhongshan thousands of miles away.

This familiar and unfamiliar city is the home of her four children.

2. "Mother Love"

Let my dream go back.

at will

Village head, south dike, north slope kiln side, all right.

Come gently, just like I walked quietly in the past.

Even in a thin mood, the wind blows.

It broke the courage accumulated over the years.

Even if you ignore the drunkenness on winter nights.

My silent root is still willing to cut on that land.

Every year, dazzling gold will come as promised.

The texture of my youth has been crushed by years like that threshing floor.

Let you ride flat.

Even if it is cold in autumn night and buried in winter snow.

Will wake up in a dream as scheduled.

Close the title page

The name leaked out of the book.

As it turns out, for my hometown,

I'm just a traveler.

But I still want to dream back to my hometown.

If it's a tree

Grow on your way here.

I still remember those years when I was pure, delicate and green.

White is the only love I have left you.

There is wind, flowers and dust.

It's all my wordless love words

The buds in the plum orchard cracked.

A thousand acres of lake water is green.

The heat has risen in summer.

I want to go back, too

Smoke village at dusk

The chubby girl with a round face seems to be back.

Wandering in the desert

brick by brick

Where are you? ...