Raindrops beat against the transparent umbrella, and the sad man covered his eyes with one hand and was wet by the oblique rain. The fading thoughts danced slowly with the drizzle, and the vague fingers shuttled between the dancers wearing tuxedos and slid in the lost Tianshui. Looking at the old Yan who once had deja vu and came here every spring.
Yan Zi's mother paddled in the water, followed by two followers flapping their wings and flying together. As a result, the gap between the fingers of the umbrella bearer is getting wider and wider, and the flying man sometimes dives into the water, embedding a big dimple on the water surface of Wanyudian River, and sometimes flying obliquely like a soft brush, freely splashing on the rainy picture, splashing ink into an abstract picture of the oblique rain on the riverside. The sound is short and accompanied by the rain, and the water is rippling. Those dancers who want to find out the truth but have disappeared must have flown back to their old eaves and been busy building nests.
Looking at the distant place I really want to go, the legendary beautiful phoenix once rested on the Phoenix Terrace in Weihui House, where I slept the longest. Turn your head to watch hardworking people fly back to their hometown from the south and listen to the passing hiss. Why don't little creatures get tired, crave the scenery on the trees, and lie uncomfortably in their nests? Evolutionary index is not smart. I don't know what the macro is in my mind. All I know is that I can't wait for the sound of larks and the fancy clothes of parrots. From the microscopic subconscious of existence, I only know that if I want to survive, I have to spread my wings and fly in nature.
The dry rain nest hooked countless thoughts to this still-underfoot bank. Immature teenagers forced their father to take him swimming in Weihe River. This duckling, who learned to float in the bathhouse, confidently plunged into the deep river, swimming backstroke and freestyle for a while. Little Khan duck saw the satisfaction on his father's face on the shore and proudly showed the breaststroke with his front paws sliding and his back paws pedaling.
The little bull just learned frogs a few times, and his thighs were stiff, so he rowed desperately to the river with his thin arms. Martial arts said, "Hands are two doors. You hit people with your feet." The swimmer said, "The hand is the steering wheel and the leg is the propeller." The cramped baby fluttered a few times in the wide river. She was exhausted and began to fill the soup. The boy spat blisters and shouted for help: "Dad! Dad! ..... "The father on the shore had already seen the clue, rushed into the water without taking off his clothes, grabbed his son's waist with one hand and struggled to hold his bulging belly to the shore. The teenager who opened his eyes found that his father's nearsighted glasses, which had been worn from college to today, were always silent in the middle of Weishui.
A few purple clothes, which I don't know when they flew back, playfully passed under the umbrella. The hand covering her eyes turned into a waving arm. The natural law of joys and sorrows is so small in the long river of history, but it can really linger in just a few decades of life. It's been many years since I lost my beloved, and I have experienced ups and downs before I know that I can enjoy the cool without a big tree. No one will always help you to correct the path you have taken, and your once concern has become an unforgettable look back. Under the scar, I know that I fell and hurt, and no one has pity and help anymore. Rub your knees when you get up, endure the pain and strive for the warm life you want. Going out early and returning late, the old mother said, "You just grew up, but you are not mature yet!" " "
The tick of the umbrella corner is getting smaller and smaller ... you don't have to think about the Phoenix Tower you point to every day. The epidemic situation in the unopened town of Muye suddenly rose. It may take a long time, and I can't tell my heart to my relatives living in heaven. I hope to meet you more and more, and my enthusiasm is getting stronger and stronger. A swift that was close at hand deliberately touched her hand, and the trance-like man melted the remaining soul into the Wei River, picked up a broken branch as an oar, and Yao Si scratched three times in the spring water, and the fine waves rippled a few times.
When the rain stopped, the umbrella collector pursed his mouth, blew a silent whistle at Yan Zi, took the paddle, turned and climbed the steps, and hummed the opera "Drum": Xiaocangwa, I left Dengfeng County and suffered all the way ... The swallow understood and continued to chirp around the willow tree.
20. 1 1.6
Pictures from the Internet, no plagiarism, all rights reserved.
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About the author: Sail, formerly known as Zhangfan. People from Xinxiang City, Henan Province. Member of Henan Branch of Chinese Writers Association. More than 300 novels, essays and poems are scattered in magazines such as Shanghai Literature, PLA Literature, Shandong Literature, Running, Camellia and Mangyuan, as well as Liaoning Literature, Dalian Literature, Changjiang Writers, Southern Literature, Qilu Literature and Southern Guangdong Writers. Pro-literature, poems of emperors, Jianghuai poetry, Yanhuang literature, Shenzhou literature, North-South literature, China love poetry magazine, Shanghai literature, Hongcheng literature, etc.