this patch of waste grass grows wild after the rain under the scorching sun of July you crossed an empty street
from my window I were watching you how flowers bloomed and died how evening winds scattered the clouds you turned around and attentively listened a tune of flute, now and then carried away like willow catkins
3 comments:
Out of the Window
this patch of waste grass
grows wild after the rain
under the scorching sun of July
you crossed
an empty street
from my window I were watching you
how flowers bloomed and died
how evening winds scattered the clouds
you turned around and attentively listened
a tune of flute, now and then
carried away like willow catkins
we live for
the final farewell
Nice, Bojo Sun. Very nice.
慢牛的作业完成的很好 ：-）
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