老农民
                                                                                我捧起一把沙子
                                                                                   随风吹向空中
                                                                                那里有一座土房子
                                                                         在黄色的世界里隐入尘烟
                                                                           我看见了那一对老夫妇
                                                                                  在大雪中站着
                                                                           像两块木头，一动不动
                                                                              地里的麦子结穗了
                                                                       搓在手里，甜甜的，涩涩的
                                                                             老人从井里接了一点水
                                                                              抹在自己干裂的嘴唇上
                                                                              剩下的全部用来和面
                                                                            哺育还没椅子高的孙儿