On the second day of the first month of the first month, I tried to write the second post
Heze friends expressed peonies to Zhuhai, in the middle of which thousands of miles through the cold and cold, after 4 days of Zhuhai's recovery, bloomed at night. So I wrote prose to remember:
A peony that left its hometown
Come to Zhuhai to find me
The roots of the peonies are still stained with soil
I left my hometown with only struggle
Lost repetitive flesh
Those snows. Those moons on the levees
A small two-storey building of Russian-style architecture
Waiting for the resurrection
I rebelled against my hometown
My hometown caught up with me
Let me be a witness to my hometown
Betrayal can be so easy