Middle-aged taste
Wen Gengxin. The strings are pulled tightly.
Drag a family of old and young.
He once fought with the wind.
Farming at a certain elevation.
own crops.
Many dreams are buried in childhood.
Most of them died without a problem.
Take some memories when necessary.
Polishing a star.
It's more about love in a bag.
Air. Tie the bag tightly and refuse to splurge.
Some reluctant at all.
Hidden under stones.
Shattered by a single hour hand.
I have tasted all five flavors.
A lot of people's laughter is waiting for the price to sell.
And in the deepest part of spring.
My colors. It's still as gorgeous as yesterday.
Open the day
Wen Gengxin. days before opening.
The wind is slanted, and the rain is thin.
Joke with dragonflies.
Ogika has a solid question mark on her head.
Butterflies fluttering. Prove each other with dreams.
The wind plucks the grass tips, and the grasshoppers play in unison.
The sounds of the fields are wild.
I am a fresh stone.
My answer was angular.
After the days opened.
Wring out the dream and let the river turn.
Pull the seed out of the body.
Plant wheat and beans and go to distant places with roots.
Winter is not idle either.
Laugh with the fire.
Some reminiscences are written on the window lattice.
Woken up by the wind and snow.
Sometimes, try to use the language of green.
Resurrection of a spring.
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.