Red cherry trees
The sail of the heart.
I never see that cherry tree in the field again, I can no longer love her like this, my sky.
No more direct sunlight could penetrate her heart, she was so beautiful, childlike and stubborn, she was colorful, lonely, and loved life.
Oh, the red cherry tree, she is like a torch, like light, she has warm smoke, she has a bright house, she has a bubbly coral keen hand.
I can no longer love her like this, cherry tree, cherry tree, I can no longer cherish you like this, love you so much, that even your broken words are hidden in the swamp of the depths.
I can no longer be so close to you, but just watch how you are happily there, one day, at a certain time, when you are going away from the world, and tell me by the call of your day that I will clothe you with the garment of the moon.
Red Moon
The sail of the heart.
You are the world.
The only eye I have forgotten.
When I miss you.
Every corner is your trace.
Like a butterfly, casually skimming in front of my window.
Stay for a moment and then quietly fly away.
Like the moon at this moment.
A red whale mountain.
Slowly waking up from a dream.
Skimming
The sail of the heart.
The wind when you are lonely, always miss the lonely night, the slightly swaying woods, always tend to be calm on the lake, and you, in the clouds**, my lonely island.
I love your hidden dawn, the high hills, the blue stars and flowers, and the wrinkles on your face, the beautiful dusk.
I love you, your whale in the aurora, your moonlit sea, your tenderness in the depths of the sea, your every appearance in the world.
When everything is destined to come to an end, it's time to forget, don't want the story to be finished, it's time to part, don't remember and wait.
Like a void in the forest at a certain moment, a firefly, through a thin layer of mist, flew through our wheat snow.
And like you are sitting quietly in the canopy of a tree at this moment, and the birds are flying past our youth.
Read the Sleep Poet Shooting.
Face the sea and look for the light with your black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "speaking for grassroots poets" as its mission and promoting the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, the spiritual pleasure of poetry, and the revelation of poetry to living life.
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