一支笔插入握紧的拳头， 纸就这样闲着 一柱火焰拢住母亲的身影， 思念就如此荒着 忏悔是溯游的乌篷船 泊到哪一港湾 可以上岸，理一理苇草 满头的花白 您把月亮晾在哪块云上 在湿的夜里，我想念您 我的母亲多少年后，擦拭多少次那张全家福母亲的脸仍是泛黄的火忙着放开一裙烟 A pen into the clenched fist, the paper is so idle with a pillar of flame close to the mother’s figure, missing so absurdly repentance is the backwater of the awning boat to which harbor can go ashore, rational management of reed full Of the flowers you put the moon in what cloud on the wet night, I miss you my mother how many years, how many times wipe that family portrait mother’s face is still yellowed off a skirt to smoke