Xiaoxiao under the wind and rain

"When he throws off the track of the wind, there is no poem hidden in him."

His low groan could not wake Ren He who was sleeping deeply, but he could also vaguely hear the rubbing sound of the pen nib sliding, little by little.

At midnight there will be shivering pedestrians.Xu, gorgeous.The road that can't fall for a few miles lies on the mountain flowers that should be, and the willows next to the border town, half blown by the wind.

In three years, he wrote poems for three full years, and he often wrote thin shadows into the water artificially, even if the gray-blue light would no longer fill his life, his heart would be covered with a purple haze. Frost.The outline of the light gray pen and ink and the manuscript paper seemed confused again, and he deceived himself that he would have time to stop, but he didn't realize until the night got darker and darker that there were not many opportunities left for him.Accidentally, half an hour was exhausted, as if life fell into a countdown, the sky was not clear about the joy of that autumn, and the twittering fell into a mess again.

The weather of my hometown is turned into one song after another, playing countless moments of looking back, like reconciling with the past, and no longer being casually discouraged by any cloud or miscanthus flower.He has seen young people passing by in the spotless streets, he has seen children walking side by side in the shade of verdant trees, swimming with beautiful red flags in their laps, they are half candy, if it is not for the coldness of winter With less enthusiasm, it looks like him who is not confused.

The stars hidden everywhere are the sky that nature has asked countless times, leaving rough memories to seal the infinite beauty. In the past two years, the beauty is in summer.When the evening wind passes by, it is dusk in summer, and everything can be infinitely superimposed.The sound at night awakened the people who had been around for several times, the reflection of life could be seen in the gaps between the tree branches, and several dark marks were inlaid on the ground.It's mid-winter, and he tried to write on the roll of paper in front of him, but he couldn't do anything. It seemed that the first snow had been trampled into a puddle of water, and it was a little colder when the snow melted.

Winter is here, and the wind is blowing brighter. Will the future be clear? The old clock is blown by the wind, and time moves forward again.Argon filled with mist and fragrance, I believe that the sunshine in early spring will be brighter, the bleary sunshine is just right, recalling the night that was entangled by insomnia, I was completely lonely, and it became night again at six o'clock in the east.

From morning to night, running on the plastic runway under the strong sunlight, holding up the guitar on the lawn and cheering for the long live youth, because I have felt the wind so I will never grow old.The setting sun passed over the branches of Cistanche deserticosa, and the streets where the wind often visited were waiting for him to shout. He knew how to gallop in a battle, and that - battle, pointed directly at Yunshao.He gave the time to the master who belonged elsewhere, and he didn't whisper anymore, regretting that it was the day's hardship, and the sadness that disappeared in half an hour.

The night spread across the sky, and at three minutes past midnight, the wind blew up the street lamp in the corner again. It was also shrunk before, and I had seen Liu before.

The scorching wine burns a hot heart, and there are dripping heat waves flowing outside the body, they should be their own red sun. 'When the wind is blowing, when winter is not knowing summer, it is clear and clear enough, tossing and turning the hope of another world.