Shi Ruitao
You cough and call me in the distance.
The wet and cold air has reached your feet.
Even colder than this is the mountain ridge in xishan village.
One gust of wind blew another.
After washing clothes, close the doors and windows with ten stiff fingers.
In the middle of the fire, there is an untouchable light beating.
You walk lightly.
Tear off today's 28th in a cough.
On the way, I remembered the apricot tree planted that year.
At this time, it only has the last leaf left.
In order to believe in winter, you want to shake it down.
Some ants are looking for words under the tree.
The silent tile house didn't say that sentence at last.
You go to bed early at night.
Dreaming along the distant lights.
Mom, go home.
Dawn has drowned your footprints again and again.
Street lamps are not always on.
As long as you cough up stubborn leaves.
It will fall into your palm.