Gloomy afternoon.
Li Wei's poems. In an instant, the sky brightened, like the sky.
Not the sky, but the sky remembers itself.
At that moment, he was even darker and harder in the wilderness.
As if he wasn't him anymore.
It's the silence he nails into the world after he disappears.
The association of the Silk Road
Autumn Moon Maple. One.
The winds blew for centuries.
The Hexi corridor turns green.
The sound of the Qiang flute and the horse's hooves rises and falls like the waves of the sea.
Sunset. Sink into the desert.
Two. A temple.
A few horses. Together with the flying goddess of the Mogao Grottoes.
Dew and raindrops on silk.
Climb over the hillside.
There is a camel in the lonely smoke.
Long yellow sand. But it wasn't made by clouds.
Three. The white flock of the Great Northwest.
Start from Hexi.
Gobi. Endless red willows.
Like I fell in love with an old brother named Zhang Qian.
Lying under the sky where the sand and dust are flying.
A city surrounded by night.
Again and again my mind was taken away.
As if I was.
Lost on the Silk Road.
A pearl. Four.
It's so lonely tonight.
It was as if I saw the brilliant lights in the Western Regions.
Dance. And I didn't even have the chance to see him.
Zhang Qian holding a scepter.
I'm riding a big horse.
Gradually disappearing into the depths of history.
The aroma of the land.
Blue Nights. In the twilight, I walked across the fields.
The distant mountains are closer to the chest than ever.
The symphony of yellow and green, flowing like a clear spring.
The smell of earth came with the sound.
The joy of a good harvest struck my heart.
Heavy ears of grain whispered.
The girl's chuckle fluttered in the wind.
I want to distinguish between the smell of skin or grains.
The fields after the harvest are more and more visible.
The straw lay gently.
The land opens its arms and its pores are relaxed.
The fragrance is extraordinarily attractive.
The glow is warm in the autumn breeze.
I think of my mother's embrace.
It's winter.
Allison. She spread her palms.
I want to put the mountains and mountains, water, and flowers that I like.
Grab it again. The love in my heart is blown by the wind.
Others are nowhere to be seen.
The bird cowered on the branch and laughed maliciously.
The rain stopped. At the beginning of her memory, she desperately searched for a favorite word.
If you empty your heart, you can't store a word of love.
Rainwater
Three stones. A joy and sorrow of snow.
Start with the rain.
Pour a glass of peach blossom wine and wait for your return.
Crossing the Lingnan Mountains and going out of the letter valley.
Pei Jiangyin straddled the horse.
It's a long way to go to the mountains.
Before the battle.
A blade that shines with the wind.
Piercing the water, piercing the ground, and piercing the sky.
Why complain about the Qiang flute.
All it takes is one turn.
above the earth. The grass raised its head.
Flowers open their eyes. Out-of-the-world and out-of-town or outdoor.
Ancient locust tree. **It's a paradise.
When spring is in full bloom.
I haven't been able to find the sea.
If there is no sea, how can we face it?
Thinking with the distance, I would like to say the energy field of intimacy.
Family, neighbors, love and light.
Airplanes roared in the sky
Zhang Yihe. The plane flew over the courtyard.
Fly past the noon of spring.
The flowers are quiet.
Sitting in the bosom of the earth.
Plagues and air crashes that are denied in the distance.
From time to time it floats in the poem.
There was a roar.
Hidden in the void all the time.
Pure love.
Sun Yuncang: You're a little bird.
I don't want to be a birdcage.
I am a tree that makes you attached.
You're tired. Stop on my branches.
You're a boat.
I don't want to be a cable.
I am a haven of tranquility.
Let you. Shelter from wind and waves and mooring ......
Reality is in the way.
I want to be a soul out of a shell.
Warm and silent. Be with you from afar.
Spider plant.
Yao Shiying. Sick mother.
Leaning on a wicker chair on the balcony.
Staring at the spider plant in the pot.
Suddenly climbed the railing.
Try to hold up your body.
She wants to trim the flowers and plants as she did in the past.
But this time her will.
I can't control my body.
Spider plants smoke green in the spring breeze.
I don't know how much the mother said goodbye to it.
It became a ritual that could not be completed.
It replays in my memory over and over again.
The one who doesn't collect at night.
Li Zhefu. The one who doesn't harvest at night is drunk in the shade of flowers.
Neon-lit night.
The sound of the car whistle shattered completely.
I was drunk, and no one paid attention.
The woman called the red-sleeved incense.
Still on the side of the liquor order.
Huanghua lost a lot of weight.
At this time, the crab claw orchid is so fat that it is oily.
The curtains are rolling, and a nostalgia is in the sound of rain.
I want to ...... loudly