自从搬到别处,我很少回家。奶奶说,院里的石榴树自你们搬到河口,愈发旺盛,遮挡屋里光线,实在没法儿,找了个木匠把它伐了。或许太挂念它,听到后我赶忙跑到老屋去。夕阳下,残存的木桩旁钻出了杂草,好似行将就木的老人,幸存的枝丫下依旧挂着几个石榴……小时候,爸妈工作忙,我几乎是在爷爷奶奶家度过的。父母和我的疏离养成了我不与人亲近的性格,值得庆幸的是我对那棵石榴树却别有深情。每到春天,石榴树吐满嫩芽,绿油油的格外 Since I moved elsewhere, I rarely go home. Grandma said that since the pomegranate tree in your yard moved to the mouth of the estuary, it became more and more powerful, blocking the light in the house. It was impossible to find a carpenter to cut it. Perhaps too miss it, I quickly ran to the old house to hear. In the sunset, weeds were drilled next to the remaining wooden stakes, just like the old men who walked in the woods. Some pomegranates were still hung under the surviving branches. In my childhood, my parents were busy with work and I spent most of the day at my grandparents’ house. My parents and my alienation formed a character that I was not close to, and thankfully I did not have affection for the pomegranate tree. Every spring, pomegranate tree spit full of buds, especially green