defoliation
Leaves fall on the side of the road
Being stomped on
The sound of broken bones
Edges that have been chewed off by bugs
Like a heart leaf
It hurts to numbness
In the autumn wind
There is no promise of love
The setting sun makes the past a glimmer
Originally refined mind
Shrink into sparrows
In the corner of the old eaves
Not very far
A path
Waddle in the sunset
calabash
Grandpa put the gourd under the rack
The biggest one
There was a hole in the neck
Hang under the eaves
The sparrows regarded him as their own nest
I haven't moved for many years
When Grandpa died
Nor did it split him
Make a water scoop
Smog
You breathe
She'll stick to you
There is no distinction between high and low
Red lips, enchanting and moving
That bird
A cry of sorrow
Dodged a flying bullet
The leaves of the sycamore, shake and shake
When you can see the smiling face on the other side
A hug
Bus no. 20
Departure on time
snow
Along with thatched footprints
Drown together
Snow is unbridled
There was only wind in the wilderness
The dog barked, in the direction from the village
Announced, a wisp of cooking smoke
People who wake up early
Fly a flock of sparrows
Hibernation, like a glass of spirits
Drunken bugs
Dream, stretch your loins
Dreaming of spring blossoms
About the Author
Zhang Jinhu, a native of Fuping County, Shaanxi Province, has works scattered in newspapers and periodicals and online platforms.