As January comes to an end, we wave goodbye and welcome the arrival of February.
In this moment of alternation between the old and the new, I stood in the snow, yearning for the warmth of spring, in this cold winter, I felt that the fireworks in life are poetic, and I realized that the poetry in my heart is to perceive the temperature of life.
Half fireworks, half poetry, this is my interpretation of the years on the shore in January.
Fireworks represent the prosperity and hustle and bustle of winter, although sometimes not so soft, but it is the truth of life, poetry is the tranquility and beauty in my heart, is a yearning for spring, it is always in the heart, in the eyes. In the depths of this half-cold and half-warm winter, the cold is the feeling of the season, and the warm is the expectation that the years fall into the heart.
Warm and fragrant in winter, this is the message written on the last page of the calendar when January leaves!
Even if you are in the deepest cold, as long as your heart is full of hopeful poetry, such as the warmth of the sun, like the purity of the stars and moons, you can feel the warmth of the winter in January, and the cold in January can also make the warmth into your heart.
Docked in January, new in February.
In this February time, "going home for the New Year" is the word that can move the time most in the eyes, it is the nostalgia of the steps hurriedly superimposed in the years, it is the expectation of returning from the wind and snow on the long road, and it is a sound of "Dad, Mom, I'm back!" when I pushed the door in. This is the most vivid poetry in February, "New Year" makes every minute and every second jump with the heartbeat, February is the poetry, turning the cold of winter into the warm sun in my heart, and the fragrance is fragrant in my pen.
See you in January and hello February!
May in this cold winter, with the cured meat accumulated in January to raise the strongest flavor of February, that is, a bowl of fireworks in my mother's hand, that is, the poetry of my mother with cooking smoke.
This article was originally published by Yueming Su Guangnuan in Baijiahao, **Please indicate! Thank you for liking, and I would like to get in touch with you with the plain light of the moon and give you warmth!
Appreciation of original works: This winter night is the taste of homesickness!
Appreciation of original works: Pursue in poetic rhyme.
Appreciation of original works: Drifting snow, a touch of light smoke lightly depicts the sky.
Appreciation of original works: In the snow every year, it is also dyed with tears.
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