就恋这把土：秋，这是梦境么？—微型散文詩

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文／何强

“脚下的那片泥土，每抓起一把，都一定会攥出血来。”

                                     -- 诗人芒克




从水墨里走出的旗袍倩影，在清秋的悠然里，霜染的烟霞缠结在故梦里

柔美的萨克斯，定格了荷塘一处诗情画意，岁月染指红泥新醅的独醒

古典的色彩在不经意间轮回，搁浅星空的月影，埙音早已离我远去




Love is the soil


Autumn, is this a dream?
— miniature Prose poetry

The author／HeQiang

"At the foot of the piece of clay, each grabbed a, will hold a bleeding."
                                                    — poet MangKe


Figures from the ink out of the cheongsam, in the clear autumn leisureliness, cream which had been dyed a phantasy tangles in the dream

Soft saks, frames the lotus pond in a poetic, days get their hands on the red mud new fermented grains wake up alone

Classical color inadvertently cycles, stranded star moon, two-string fiddle sound already far away from me




何强
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