对于一株树而言,用“倒塌”来描述它的生存状态似乎有些欠准确,但又确乎只能如此才是准确的。因为这一株并不高大的梧桐,一直默默地绿在高楼的背影里的梧桐,确实已经倒下了。残损的枝叶紧贴在地面,再也不能相触在风中、摇曳在雨里,只有几根当它站立时无法见到的巨大的根须,还紧紧扣住已经开裂的水泥块,作为它仍然活着的明证。这一株并不高大的梧桐,一直活在我居住的小区的后院。也许是当年有一个人认真手植于此,也许是一只过境的小鸟带它来到了这里,也许仅仅是一阵风送来的种子,这些都已经不重要。当我看到它时,它确乎已经在此立了很久,一直默默地 For a tree, using “collapse” to describe its state of existence may seem somewhat inaccurate, but it is indeed the only way it is accurate. Because this is not a tall sycamore, has been silently green in the back of the tower in the Indus really did collapse. The damaged branches and leaves cling to the ground and can no longer touch the wind, swaying in the rain, with only a few huge roots that can not be seen when standing, and also holding tightly the cracked concrete blocks as It is still alive proof. This is not a tall sycamore, has been living in the backyard of my living area. Perhaps there was a man who was seriously hands-on here, maybe a transit bird brought it here, maybe just a gust of seeds, all of which are not important. When I saw it, it really had been here a long time, has been silently