艾草露水还没有下来,艾草就在山洼里等等端午节的气氛,刷新低矮的屋檐。檐下,去年的一小撮艾草,等着接茬与艾草一起等端午的,还有老屋、娘亲和灶头上热乎乎的土鸡蛋男人出门了,女人把目光转过院墙、山坳,再拐一个弯放学的孩童一溜烟跑过田垄我仿佛听见玉米在拔高,青蛙蹲在荷叶上;我仿佛看见摇蒲扇的奶奶,正给孙子燃起艾香。星星落下来艾草的灯盏明明灭灭娃娃睡了,咳嗽声睡了,村庄也睡了。我睁开眼睛那是我回不去的原乡。我闭上眼睛 Wormwood dew has not yet come down, wormwood in the hills and waits for the Dragon Boat Festival atmosphere, refreshing low eaves. Eaves, a handful of wormwood last year, waiting for the next crop with wormwood and other Dragon Boat Festival, as well as the old house, Niangnin and hot stove on the stove the man went out, the woman turned his eyes on the wall, col , And then turn a bend school children ran quickly ran across the ridge I seem to hear the corn in the high, the frog crouched on the lotus leaf; I seem to see the shaking palm fan Grandma, is grandson ignite incense. The stars fell down the wormwood lamp lightly extinguished the doll slept, cough sound sleep, the village also slept. I opened my eyes and it was my hometown that I could not get back. I close my eyes