怀念一栋草房

那是一栋没有屋脊的草房

矮矮的墙

一扇向北开着的小窗

穿过人生的纷杂                       

便看见了那房                                              

看见了那窗           

看见了那窗子后默默凝望的姑娘 

岁月把记忆汇成了河流                         

在残缺的冰雪下面                                                                

汩汩地流着                                                                      

岁月的绝唱                                                     

那个季节没有花香                                                     

没有绿树阴凉                                                      

只有野草在使劲地伸着头颈                                                       

想刺破这冬的余孽吸吮阳光                                                              

农家的烟囱耸立着黑黑的影像                                                           

一缕缕地散发着晚炊的清香                                                           

几声无意的狗吠                                                                        

便引起了鸭群四处张望                                                                  

夕阳把暖暖的春意撒到身上                                                           

烧荒的篝火                                                                 

渐渐萌动起闪闪的光亮                                                          

象晚归的白鸽扑闪着翅膀

那只是一个草房

一个没有屋脊的草房

一扇向北开着的小窗和透过小窗

默默地向外凝望着的姑娘

那不是一个草房

也没有那个姑娘

那个伫立的老者

眼里透出的又何止是沧桑