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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
倚在田埂上听自己的脚步，如落于纸上的一点温度，将我焚化成一缕微尘的感动
无法捡拾起曾经平仄的蛊惑，不再讲絮叨的故事，文字倾覆过后的静憩
枯坐书房享一曲痴痴地埙曲，悄然叩醒麦地的嘤嘤呢语，泛起羞涩的红晕吟咏成诗
Love is the soil
Lost in the way of writing
— miniature Prose poetry
The author／HeQiang
"At the foot of the piece of clay, each grabbed a, will hold a bleeding."
— poet MangKe
Leaning on the ridge to hear his steps, such as falls at a point on the paper temperature, to incinerate me into a wisp of dust
Not picking up once the level and oblique tones and no longer ramble about the story, capsized the static water after the text
Su study enjoy a song begging a two-string fiddle, quietly knocking wake field of language, flush shy blush intone into poetry
何强
地址：安徽省合肥市亳州路畅园新村72栋405室
邮编：230031
QQ: 743173859
邮箱：hqyhyh@163.com
手机：13856059543 |
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