Mailing cotton clothes to my son, who is studying in college far away, produced the following scene, my heart was sad, I had a dream, my son had been killed, but the dream was true, my heart was blocked, and I remembered it in a few words.

Packed in the parcel

The padded jacket is about to be sent

Suddenly, a corner was revealed

Open your armpits quickly

Sew it up

Tell Aunt Li in the distance

Sew up all your mutilations

Quartz clock on door frame

Ticking into noon

The sorrow of the heart

Buried by the tunnel of time

A little bit of loss and melancholy

A dull ache

April 4, 2014 at 13:10