霞光满天,山弯里的一条小路,像一缕炊烟,像一条小河,像一个人的手臂和背影。小路在延伸,在拓展,山路上的阳光在一步一步向远处跋涉、攀登。这条小路,古老而崎岖。沿着小路的方向行走,一条宽阔的大道,早已覆盖了小路的踪影。我试图找到小路上的一朵小花,找到小路上的一棵野草,但小路消逝了。最终,我在这条崭新的大路旁,找到了一块小小的墓碑,上面刻着一个年轻的名字,一个年轻母亲的名字。年轻的母亲,年轻的一条路。村里人谁都记得,她的名字也叫小路,小路与这条大道,就这样紧紧联 Rays of sky, a trail in the mountains, like a plume of smoke, like a small river, like a person’s arm and back. In the extension of the path, in the expansion, the sun on the mountain step by step to the distance, climbing. This path, ancient and rugged. Walking along the path of the road, a wide avenue, already covered the traces of the path. I tried to find a small flower on the path, find a weed on the path, but the path disappeared. In the end, I found a small gravestone on this brand-new road, carved with a young name and a young mother’s name. Young mother, young one way. Everyone in the village remembers her name is also called the path, the path and this avenue, so closely linked