Original | Prose Poems: Joining Hands for a Seven-Day Wandering [Day 6]

It has been the hundredth time to see the sunrise.

The sun was so bright red that I woke up with her and got up to watch the sunrise, followed by a hundred children.

A hundred flowers bloomed on the road, and a hundred miles of singing were sung, leaving a fragrance all the way.

The garland on her head was opened thankfully, and she liked it, so she wore it.

The sun was a little harsh, yesterday's clouds were almost gone, and the world was bright and bright.

The wooden staff in his hand was folded in half, and the rest was used to remember the way to come.

On the sixth day, I came to the top of the mountain again, this time not to see the world.

I think we breathe clear air together and watch goshawks fly by together – what else?

Don't miss it, too.

Text/Li Junru

One point number one source Sinology