那年的九月
                           柳叶已经发黄
                           新翻的泥土气息
                           在田野上飘荡 
                            
                            一头老牛
                            迈着沉稳的步履
                            拉着一张破旧的木耧
                            走在田野上
                            
                             父亲苍老而有力的双手
                             驾驭着木耧
                             随着父亲手臂的摇晃
                             木耧出有节奏的声响
  
                              那是父亲在播种
                              父亲在播种来年
                              丰收的喜悦
                              也在播种
                               明天的希望
        
                              谁说庄稼汉是泥腿子
                              不会写诗
                               看吧，几天以后
                              那嫩绿的麦苗
                              不就是父亲的绿色的诗行？

                               每年   九月
                               当柳叶再次变黄
                               我的脑海中就浮现起
                               父亲驾着那张木耧
                                和那头老黄牛
                               一同走在秋天的田野上............