(A memorial poem for the 19th day of every month)
I stop riding my bicycle suddenly.
I look around,
The seat behind is still empty,
With no one sit on it,
With no one travel along with me.
Leaves are brown,
my shadow narrower,
and the sun is in the west and round.
I ride on my bicycle lonely.
With my feet on the pedals,
With slow speed and silent breeze,
I am weary,
keeping on groping the answer.
I find a car.
With two seats,
and a streamlined shape.
With inner decoration and a lovely engine sound,
I sincerely hope that I can sit next to you,
I knock on the car door,
But you ignore me.
You decide to drive the car away, with no return sign
We have been apart for four months.
Yet, the knocking sound is still lingering in my mind.
I know, I know you are pretending to be fine.
Away, I'd better ride away.