就恋这把土：昨夜已是往事 —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


一地金黄赤裸的美丽，旁边站着那棵恹恹郁郁的老榆树，我喁喁地跟它说话

夕阳拉长的背影轻掸时光的游离，一阵的抽搐，定格在你最后一个记忆

当子夜的箫音洗净喧哗，晨曦之中的心语未饮先醉，夜幕消失在一条狭窄的幽长田埂
Love is the soil


Last night, has been the past
— miniature Prose poetry

The author/HeQiang

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


A yellow to naked beauty, stood beside the old elm tree was weak and weary through illness, my secrets to talk to it

Sunset back light shan long time free, a tic, frames in your last memory

When midnight wash flute sound and noise, light of  The language of the soul drunk before drinking, night disappear in a narrow Quiet a long field ridge




何强
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