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January 03
一个老人
当你的老伴走了，留你一个人，
在世的朋友也相继减少。
秋风吹得白杨萧萧砉响，
雪降让大地寂静无声。
你扶着门，向路人问安。
山上的玉米地，你从父母亲
手中接过来，每一年都让它肥沃。
露水在叶上缓缓凝聚，
一阵晨风让它滑落，没着痕迹。
你用衣襟兜着玉米，敲响我的门。
孩子们在自己的家里有自己的烦恼，
你在短睡中苏醒，狗吠和天籁，
黑夜成了你生活重要的部分。
你听着雨水下在屋前的空地上，
你在黑夜中起身，坐在古老的藤椅里。
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