Text/Ardor
Look at the height of a tree
Fallen leaves, so beautiful
Elegant as a butterfly fluttering
The tree was bare-minded and couldn't think straight
The leaf left so quickly and thoroughly
It turns out that the green leaves are not decorative
It's not about borrowing your branches to show off
It is the tentacles of life
The bone-chilling cold is good for thinking
The next spring blossoms, may you be kind
Fallen leaves, one catch another
Let the twilight partner maintain the last dignity
There used to be high and low status
Landing on the ground, both
Huddled together for warmth
If you can cover up the naked winter
Or before decay, turn into flames
The fallen leaves would laugh and quiet down
With seeds in the dirt
Complete the final handover
Postscript: When you read this little poem, it is a kind of fate. If this little poem brings you warmth, brings you touch, makes you feel a little moved. 别忘了给作者加个关注，点个赞，收藏一份友情，谢谢！ It is not easy to create, thank you for sticking to the real position of literature with me! Pure literature is difficult, insist on an innocence, insist on a feeling. (Thanks)
