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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/80b9c8f169717af057e2ad769728a9d6.mp3
点击复制Postcards smell of cedar
ink bleeds through the cold;
you write of frozen rivers
and dreams you couldn’t hold
Each sentence wears a footprint
each pause a breath of snow;
the silence after reading
is where the meanings go
I press them in my journal
like leaves that choose to stay;
your words become my seasons
my heart the open bay
When winter comes unbidden
and frost rewrites the sea—
I’ll find you in the mountains
where letters learn to breathe