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The year is light

Time: 2018-08-09 13:18:16 | Author: Chen Yi Han

With a little dew, the sleeves dangle.

Li Ri has a good appointment, Wu Rongmao, Chaffinch.

Take a leisurely look at the riverside of the hometown, and the setting sun flows.

I heard that the brook was sloppy and the smoke was cooking.

--Inscription

It's warmer year by year. It was the cold winter month, but it was no longer quiet, but it showed some spring posture generously.

"In the old days, I heard ancient rumors, but I don't know what it means to be winter snow." The small town has not snowed for a long time, but there is a glimpse of many years in the memory.

The hometown is a small town with a tranquil environment, surrounded by mountains and rivers, with a lot of scenery. As a child, I was looking forward to the annual Spring Festival day and night.

At that time, he was wearing a festive big red folder, sucking his nose, rubbing his eyes with his little black hand, and watching the elders setting off fireworks with the children next door, which seemed to me a very fun thing.

In the snow in front of the footsteps of the door, we were surprised to see the uncles and uncles lighten a match, lit a box of fireworks, and then covered their ears and ran to the eaves like children. Looking down, smiling.

One after another the fireworks contain buds, squeezed from the ground, can't wait to drill out, rising, rising, flying into the sky, accompanied by the shouting of the earth, turned into shining colors, lighting up the night Under the sky.

That's the best time for them. After the brilliance, they turned into the dust of the sky, falling with the snowflakes, falling from the clouds into the dust.

This is a firework in full bloom. For some fireworks, the muffled sound didn't swell, and before it rushed to the skies, there was no "boom", it extinguished, fell, and buried the body that was born to be deep in the red dust.

These are dead fireworks. Before they are born, they are dead, they can never bloom, they can never reach the skies. They flickered from our eyes, and with the composition http://wWw.ZuoWenwang.Net/ our hope, disappeared together in the night, without traces and shadowless disciples remained full of joy at first.

The old people were sitting on a small bench, watching the fireworks, and showing a childlike innocent smile. At that time, I just glanced at them, thinking they were just as happy as me. But now after many years, they are gradually recollecting the nostalgia in their eyes.

Nah, once you get older, it will be one year less. Naturally, I don't understand this kind of shyness. Me, it's just one of thousands of small town girls.

I am delighted by the fireworks in full bloom, and I feel indescribably lonely for the failed fireworks. Their existence is like a mystery, and no one knows how bright they will be if they bloom.

My mother coaxed me into saying that the dying fireworks landed in the dust. When I grow up, it will come out of the ground, rise to the sky, and bloom wildly.

When I was young, I believed it, so I looked forward to growing up day and night. Just growing up, can I really see the reborn fireworks?

After the years, the people walked away, scattered, just this story, in the end is not over.

Years later, I sat on a high-rise with my knees on my knees, listening to the bells of the New Year. On the TV was Dong Qing's everlasting smile. Suddenly I felt a cold and couldn't help shivering. When I got up and closed the window, I looked out of the window, and there was no blackness.

Fireworks, it's gone. It seems to be accompanied by the snow of childhood, lost together in the endless night. Four seasons are like spring.

I am no longer a cheerful child, and finally I can't help being tired and falling asleep on my legs. In the world of dreams, there seemed to be a humming sound of a small "bang".

After a while, the fireworks grew farther and farther away from me.

Fireworks forgot our promise.

Just the way forward, I have to learn to go alone.

For example, those distant years have passed away. In the end there is only one inch of old time left.

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