Smoke in the fields at dusk

Smoke rises from the fields in the evening.
blurry, torn eyes, father
wind tilt
my childhood
burning in the realm of memories

Lost in the twilight, amidst the grassy fields.
thin smoke branch
drenched in wild fibers
I feel sorry for my father's sweat under the summer sun.
The ash stains on the corners of my mother's eyes were deeply sunken.

Kites soaring in the wind, a land of nostalgia.
Drifting across the fields, fragrant with the smell of burnt straw.
I remember grilled perch.
baked potato in hot ashes

Smoke
dyeing the evening clouds
lull my dreams to sleep...
NGUYEN DUC BA

Published at: 18:03, 30/04/2024

Source: https://baoquangngai.vn/van-hoa/tho/202404/khoi-dong-chieu-13c2b2b/