上半宿·圆月亮出了老房子的大门,绕过梨树,那一排五棵柳树都是父亲种的。将近五十年了,柳树枝叶繁茂,上边住了几家子鸟,鸟藏在柳叶丛中,从来都不见身影。春天的阳光里,它们叽叽喳喳叫个不停,如果不是在树阴里看到一摊摊白的黄的鸟粪,还以为是树叶叫出了声。父亲说他不记得种树时的情景。爷爷插话,能记得才怪!种树的时候,父亲只有三岁,三岁的娃娃接过他的爷爷我的太爷手里的这些柳枝,把它们插在斜 Half-moon on the moon out of the old house door, bypassing the pear tree, that row of five willows are the kind of father. For nearly fifty years, the willow lush foliage, live on the top of several birds, birds hidden in the willow, never see the shadow. In the sunshine of the spring, they chatter non-stop, if not in the shade to see a share of white yellow guano, thought it was the leaves yelling. Father said he did not remember the scene when planting trees. My grandfather interrupted, can remember strange! When planting trees, my father was only three years old, three-year-old dolls took over his grandpa in my hand, these willow branches, put them in the oblique