Watch

Sitting quietly on the platform of three feet, there was heavy snow flying all over the sky outside the window, and there were ninety-nine children of twelve or thirteen years old under the platform. At this time, they were immersed in thinking, we will feel the magic nature is giving us at this moment with me. Through the misty windows of two or three parties, I vaguely saw pieces of snowflakes flashing through the window, with unspeakable agility. This winter is warm. After three or nine years, the Sunny Sun is still spreading all day long, just like March with bright spring. I thought I would see her again, but I didn’t expect her to come, although it was a little late. Counting the days, more than thirty years have slipped away quietly. Did the snow angel of childhood come so late because of his old age and stumbling steps? But after all, he didn’t miss the appointment with winter. He was dressed in a white gauze, coming from the sky. He still kept the essence of previous years and danced vigorously. At this time, the classroom was quiet, just like the snowflakes outside the window, silently. Suddenly I remembered a poem: if the king wants to give plum blossom, how about giving plum blossom? A hundred times around the tree, the sentence is silent. People who want to write about plum blossom, people who appreciate plum blossom face the full tree plum blossom, but can’t find any matching sentences. Later, they find that the verses are in silent places. Like a baby, facing the bustling world, there is nothing but babbling. Children and snowflakes are both angels in the world. Children hand over beauty, love, life and emotion to the manuscript paper. Snowflakes freely write poems in the sky and the Earth, though silent, but left a moving chapter for the world. Just as the writer said: litterateurs want to describe their moods, painters want to paint their moods, and musicians want to play their thoughts, they just try their best to do it. This silent verse only needs our heart to feel, not to say. So, at this moment, let me completely entrust the wings of imagination to the children, and what I have to do is to keep silent on the platform, watch the window, watch the screen, and let the snowflakes flash freely, if an old black and white movie is playing slowly, I just need to devote myself to being an audience, watch and taste slowly, and occasionally make a sigh. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring

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