I ask to be the child of the sky
Even if it takes back the wings of my heart
Through the field, the winter is deep
Some days the wind hanging color
The cup collapsed and nobody lifted it
I'm drunk in the distance
Postural yellowing
The wheat is green in solitude
I didn't accidentally arrive in the next spring
There is a shadow in the vertical field
I want to smoke
After the Red Sorghum came home
How many or in my tenderness
Sitting in the table on the survival
My love and hate
Be afraid to bring up
The wind blew me down
Low to mud, get water
I want to be a child in the sky
as if
Also in touch