舌头已几乎摆脱乡音,却频频回顾榛子隐藏的激情;身体斜靠在城市的屋檐,记忆却游荡在比童年更远的山野。斩不断的乡愁,长着纷乱的翅膀,始终飞不过那一方水土;挡不住的回归,露出板栗色面容,交付深山收藏,只等野孩子的手将它剥开。绿色的包衣,生命逐日生长的声响隐约可闻。这包衣,是母亲孕育我的包衣吗? The tongue has almost got rid of the accent, but frequently reviews the hidden passion of the hazelnuts; the body leans against the eaves of the city while the memory wanders in the mountains far beyond childhood. Cut nostalgia constantly, with chaotic wings, always fly that side of the soil and water; unstoppable return, revealing chestnut-colored face, the delivery of deep collection, and other wild child’s hand to peel it. The green coat, the sound of life growing day by day can be heard. This coat, is my mother bred my coat?