深秋了，饱经一年沧桑的落叶在湿泥中开始腐烂，将化为大地的肥料。山坡上的秃枝孤树还要熬到明年春天才能吐绿。因为梦想，所以选择远方。在这阴冷的周末里，正如罗杰·米勒所述：”有些人能感受雨，而其他人则只是被淋湿。”
(2019)
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