墨一泼上去
                         宣纸上就出现了唐朝
                         长亭边
                         浮动暗香
                         而且
                         黄昏渐渐来临

                         你这时觉得
                         大师的瘦手
                         就是湿漉漉的古道了
                         夕阳照着
                         一个叫梦梅的书生
                         踩着惆怅
                         在古道上  踱远

                         不知出于一种什么考虑
                         几千年来
                         好多好多书生
                         都叫个梦梅
                         梅的梦又总是遥遥远远
                         只能被流不出泪的岁月
                         塑成树
                         挂在墙上挂在心里

                         大师这时
                         肯定也恋着那梅
                         但注定
                         只敢让唐朝的寂寞
                         来度一段现代的
                         石破
                           天惊