漂泊,我已跟定多年。隐喻的导航,常偏离方向,尽管故乡默默无语。他乡岸边,芦花飞落,气温聚降。水波被阳光点击,叠影重生,幻象迷离。我的舌尖爬出一些苦涩,无数毛毛虫蚕食一片草叶。北风呼啸,过路鸟鸣被吹落。面对一抹淡下去的秋光,我将记忆折叠。夕阳衰弱,黄昏退出佳境。炊烟消隐之时,我捡起虚幻的影子,感慨顿生。摇响一树慌乱,风铃昼夜不停。寒霜如刀,割断草根的喃喃细语。秋色枯萎,大地依然淡定。月色泛起波澜,夜,深沉而潮湿。临近窗口,我拿出一根隐忍,点亮灯盏。借白墙站立,看呓语如何学会用孤独取暖。我 Drift, I have set the same for many years. Metaphors navigation, often deviate from the direction, despite the silent silent hometown. He Township shore, aloe fly, temperature convergence. Water waves are clicked on the sun, ghost reborn, illusion blurred. My tongue climbed out of some bitter, numerous caterpillars eroded a blade of grass. North wind whistling, birdie was blown off. Facing a touch of autumn light, I folded my memory. Sunset weakness, dusk exit nirvana. When the smoke disappeared, I picked up the illusion of shadow, a sudden feast. Swaying a tree panic, Campanula non-stop day and night. Frost like a knife, cut off the roots of the murmur. Autumn withered, the earth is still calm. Flushing moonlight, night, deep and humid. Near the window, I took a forbear, lighting lamp. Stand by the white wall to see how to learn how to use solitary heat. I