late autumn
I stood in the wilderness
Look up at the eyes of the poplar tree
They are lonely and deep
Like Rodin's thinker
The fathers are gone
They have also been so profound
Gaze intently
I stood on the sunlit steps
Look down at the bustling crowds
All kinds of eyes look east and west
They were noisy and noisy
hasty
Some eyes
Looking at others with grievances, their eyebrows are high and their eyes are low
If confused by the eyes
It reminds you of poplars
The seasons are disturbed
Its eyes
Would make me quiet
2021.10.25Baoji
Author: Xie Longzhong
