Grass

Many years ago, I sat on the hillside of kuruktag mountain in the northwest. I overlooked the border city where the red dust was surging at the foot of the mountain. I looked up at the sweeping white clouds in the sky, my body and mind are surrounded by the green grass waves on the hillside. I can enjoy the light dance of butterfly on the grass tip as I wish, listening to the subtle and wonderful wing sound of this beautiful elf flying, my heart is permeated by the green grass. At this moment, I feel I am the happiest person in the world. It was also on the high mountain in the northwest, in that unforgettable lush summer, I wrote “The fragrance of grass” with great excitement. Many years later, I was pushed to the highland of middle age by the hand of time. I was not young enough when I was young. Suddenly Looking back, tears touched the towel, the youth in my memory is still flowery, and the grass in my memory is still flying with butterfly dance and fragrance. Thinking of the grass, my vicissitudes of heart is verdant, and my gloomy eyes are as warm as water. When the green grass tabloid flew away from the deified branches of the porcelain capital like jade butterflies and gently floated to my sickbed, I seemed to see a group of happy young boys and girls chasing dreams, it seems that I am back to the passionate student age. I began to review my past passion and dream. Stepping into the long-lost green grass and walking through the jungle of words, I seemed to see the back of youth gradually moving away. Although the grass is still too immature and delicate, at the beginning of the dream, there should be rainbow-like longing and crescent-like footprints. Even if tears fall down, they will step into the grass as bright as pearls, I recall the youth and dreams of the past. Many years ago, when I was studying in university, I founded and participated in the weed Literature Society. That was an unforgettable good time for dreaming. Walking out of the school gate, carrying a seed Full of Dreams, chanting where there is no grass outside the world, resolutely on the road, going far away to sow and harvest literature is the grassland of grazing passion and dreams, literature is the comfort of the soul and the compensation of life, and literature is also a wisp of breeze showing the sail of fate. Several years later, through the green grassland, you may become a writer or poet in the true sense, maybe can’t. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that when you recall the flower season of your life, the boundless grass will be wrapped with the dreamlike fragrance, which makes you infatuated and unforgettable, at the moment of your deep taste, the surging tide will spread over your once young heart softly, and the fragrance of literature which cannot be exhausted has already been integrated into your blood, it is enough to be a part of your memory and life. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) change the way to continue to stay with this city I went out at 6 o’clock in the morning and came back at almost 8 o’clock in the evening. From beginning to end, I only welcomed myself with silence; Since I went to college, on weekends… [Original essay] string words Since winter, the sky is dry and the snow is misty. The whole earth is desolate and empty. Whether your mood is like a year, or… Forever military dream Forever military Dream (Ma Xiaochun, Kangle county, Gansu province) memories are like meteors, passing through the unmarked and blurred eyes, and the outline gradually… Spring rain I like spring rain like everything on the Earth. Just after the new year, the sky began to rain. I really like the spring in Jiangnan… Plucked the snowflakes of Dreams (modified) Near the new year, the first snow fell. I was surprised to read a long scroll in the morning, the white one is snow, and the gray one is tree… Self The fashion is transient, and the style is permanent. Things that can shine on others may not be put here. In…