一首诗,美美的,耐人寻味;一份爱,暖暖的,给人安慰。自行车的爱·旋律诗把爱炼成诗,让我品味人间亲情。儿时放学,爷爷总站在校门前,踮着脚,伸长脖子向教室张望,他旁边是一辆古董级的自行车。车子后面是我的“专座”。爷爷总是很有节奏地踩着踏板,稳稳地。然而,同样的后座,同样的背影,只是那温暖的背在不知不觉中被岁月侵蚀得如驼峰一般,紧 A poem, the United States and the United States, intriguing; a love, warm, comfort. The love melody of bicycles sculpts love into poetry, letting me taste human affection. When he was away from school, Grandpa was always standing in front of the school gate. He stomped his feet and stretched his neck to look in the classroom. Next to him was an antique bicycle. Behind the car is my “special seat”. Grandpa is always stepping on the pedal rhythmically and steadily. However, the same back seat, the same back, only the warm back is unknowingly eroded by the years like a hump, tight