1“阿倍,你爸说他不上来了。”母亲从三楼的廊外探进一头白发,蓦然现出的寥落身影打断了我正指导孩子吟诵李白的《秋浦歌》。那是一个秋日,我在母亲满布皱纹的一脸明镜中,觅见了秋霜。父亲就坐在校园北门边的一棵老雀榕树下。树老了,枝桠上没多少绿叶,就连他憩坐的石椅,早已缺落了一角,整个人憔憔悴悴的,正如筛落下的阳光一样斑驳纷沓,彷佛走进了秋季。从来没看过这般的父亲,他一向是挺拔的,如山、如树,这让我有些担忧。更让我震惊的是,母亲 1 “Abe, your dad said he does not come up. ” Mother from the gallery on the third floor to explore a white hair, suddenly the sparse figure I interrupted is guiding the children to chant Li Bai’s “Autumn Pu” . It was an autumn day, and I found the autumn frost in my mother’s wrinkled face. My father sat under an old tree of banyan tree on the north side of the campus. The tree was old, and there were not many green leaves on the branches. Even the stone chair he had been sitting in was missing a corner, and the whole people haggard and haggard like mottled sunshine, as if walking into the autumn. Never seen such a father, he has always been tall and straight, like mountains, such as trees, which makes me a bit worried. Even more shocking to me, my mother