Equinox birds
Wen Qingwei. That's not a bird.
Flocks of birds, running out of the dark forest.
Barefoot, leaving the trail of the wind.
A waterfall and the sound of insects.
Make them forget day and night for a while.
Patrolling the nest of the April Alluring City.
Oh, do I remember.
In the early morning, the spring melts into the twilight.
On the way to departure, the fragrance of flowers chases.
There are more than a few people. The bird's nostalgic eyes are staring at the familiar grass and trees.
Do you know that their footprints uncover the folds of the leaves?
and morning dew to replace the floating dust.
There are also some birds, breaking free from their cages.
Stubbornly flying.
Firmly grasped by my thoughts.
With a gentle release, the wings flutter like trembling eyelashes.
I dream of such mornings.
A delicate cherry tree.
The wind swayed, and it was softly sprinkled on the ground.
You dance in silence with the birds.
And the abundant greenery climbs up the crooked thin eyebrows.
From time to time there are smiling clouds.
Coming on your forehead.
April Fu
Wen Qingwei. When the next morning.
And the dream awoke. The croaking of frogs sounded all night.
Seems to be snuggling up to my sleep.
Sunlight suddenly jumps down from the clouds.
It will come to shine on the earth, and the old man with clear eyebrows.
The clear light warmly resembles a gust of wind.
Sweep all the dry lakes.
A vertical leaf can finally have a happy memory in the afternoon.
My ears began to fill with silence.
In the deep tears of the sky.
Spring has returned to its homeland.
Lonely relatives went to Qingming.
Unfulfilled promises in the wilderness sedimentation.
Dig out the earliest collection of plants and trees in April.
There were icy frost marks inside.
Piercing tenacity.
A car heading out into the daylight.
I was eagerly walking through the garden and the shop.
Like a father who is sitting in a doctor's office, he is close to the stretcher.
Go soothe the car.
Every impending adventure, or groan.
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.