Wei Feng: "Birdsong knocks on the morning over and over again, crushing a curtain of sweet dreams"

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Wu Weifeng, male, post-1985, hubei xiangyang (ancestral hometown of Yunxi County), quasi-senior legal worker, literature lover, familiar with astronomy, geography, "Zhou Yi", art of war, etc., Blue V poet of China Poetry Network, member of Peking University May Fourth Literary Society, member of China Writers Network, member of Qiu Zhiyun Literary Society, member of Moonlight Poetry Society, certified literary talent of contemporary cultural and artistic talent pool, author of the book "Alone View of the Outline", various poetry journals, anthologies, newspapers and online platforms published more than 700 works.

"A Handful of Dirt from My Hometown"

A leaf pulls the corner of the wind's coat

Break free of the branches

Escape like a sparrow falling to the ground

Some winds climbed over the fence and wandered

Clouds layer by layer to build the sky

Bury a round of sunset under the old locust trees of the Western Mountains

Cooking smoke pulls up long thoughts

String together the distance between the kitchen and the foreign country

The stars are obscure, and the moonlight is withering

The crow sniffed a dead branch

Skim the treetops

Rain throws thousands of threads to mend

Empty hearts

In the ticking of the eaves

Melancholy like the fog of a mountain stream

Spread out in an instant to occupy every granulocyte

A rainy night in a foreign land

Nostalgia floods across the embankment

Stir every nerve

Tease the heartstrings The night envelops the breath

The melancholy that haunts the whole body rolls with rolling waves

The heart is like a drifting leaf falling into a cold dream

The laughter of childhood condensed into a peach blossom

Don't be in the eyebrows of your hometown

A pinch of hometown dirt sticks to your chest

Comfort the wandering soul...

"Early Morning Birdsong Crush sweet dreams"

A ray of morning light an orange-red flame

Devour the night

The magpie jumps on the plum branch and throws it

Crisp ethereal chirping

Like a string of beads that fall into a dish

Hole through the camellia flowers near the window

Shake off a petal and wake up

The blue color is full of violet fragrance dreams

Birdsong strikes the morning over and over again

Crush a curtain of sweet dreams

Scatter a mutilated and poignant detritus

Pull open the curtains of a pool of lotus flowers

The sun's scorching eyes threw out thousands of golden needles

Perched veranda decorated with vitality in the morning

Through the window a magpie came a dead branch

Fly towards the ancient locust on the shoulders of the father

Nesting and thriving

Dreams are like lightning bolts on a summer night

Cross your mind

Such as the plot of the tidbits such as the sky full of poplar flowers

Faintly, I saw you riding a white horse

Wading in

The hooves of the horses swayed with ripples

With flowing hair

Pluck my picture scroll

At this moment, the warm current of happiness is rushing to the tip of the heart

Heartland has long been full of peach blossom trees...

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