1这是傍晚,暑热刚刚退去。我坐在核桃树枝丫上,两条腿来回晃荡。蜻蜓呢,翅膀碰着翅膀,“吱吱”地响。我妈在院坝下面的地里割苕藤,弓起的脊背一起一伏。我妈是个苦命人,才死了丈夫。我爹就葬在屋旁一棵梨树下,只要一抬头我妈就能看见新起的坟堆。坟堆带着新翻的泥土气息,杂草还来不及冒出来。一把花圈插在坟头,破得洞洞眼眼的。我妈割一会猪 This is the evening, heat just receded. I am sitting on the branches of walnut, legs swing back and forth. Dragonfly, wings hit the wings, “creak ” to ring. My mother cut the vine in the ground under the courtyard dam, bowed back with a volt. My mother is a bitter man, only to die husband. My dad was buried under a pear tree next to the house, just looking up at my mom can see the new burial mound. Tumulus with the newly turned soil flavor, weeds too late to emerge. A wreath inserted in the grave, broken hole eyes. My mom cuts a pig