City crops modern poetry

People here favor the evergreen pines, cypresses and boxwoods

Use the unchanging green to resist the four seasons

The fragile soul can only Will dream in the spring

I left the warm and soft soil

The baby who was less than a month old

fell from the mother’s amniotic fluid

Smooth and hard roads are suitable for racing horses

Can't stand the mermaid's transformed tail

Can't see the fields

The fragrance of buckwheat in the social drama

Monopolized by Lu Xun’s era

Rice flowers and grain piles have turned into fossils

The city’s museums have no room for display

No one really pays attention to solar terms

Manzhong Xiaoman was unwilling to be lonely

He turned into a test question and rushed over

Poor these clean children

Can’t write about the taste of the earth

The original earthy smell

I said no crops can grow here

They said look at the flow of people

Green people come and go in vain

It’s the crops in the city

I’m a little surprised and scared

I’ve been thinking about it in my dream

Who is harvesting here

One crop after another