贵阳花溪东岸一排青黛的低山,一片葱绿的丛林,我喜欢周末一个人爬上去听风。那风声低缓流过时,就像青岛石老人海滨——韵韵的浪花在海面拂过。这时,一个老人就会映在我的眼帘,睿智、善良、敏感、执着,渐渐清晰向着我微笑,又渐渐淡去像海浪,也像山风。每当这个时候,我就会回家读他的散文诗—— Guiyang huaxi east bank of a row of indigo low mountains, a lush jungle, I like to climb alone to listen to the wind over the weekend. Slow downwind flow that outdated, just like Qingdao Shoushu beach - rhyme spray blowing in the sea. At this time, an old man will be reflected in my eyes, wise, kind, sensitive, persistent, gradually smiling toward me, and gradually faded like waves, but also like a mountain. Whenever this time, I will go home to read his prose poems -