生命唤不醒的回忆

 

                                 谁能把那些没有枯黄的记忆

                                           
                                        叫做秋天

                 
                                  谁又能在生命唤不醒的地方


                                   把花朵和青春一起遮掩

                                           
                                        北山的垭口


                                    裸露着的狂风四处流窜


                                    一些牛羊走过红色山坡


                                        苍老的阿爸


                                      磕掉最后一管旱烟


                                   一轮太阳正悄悄溜过冬天



                                   古刹禅定的鼓声才刚刚想起


                                      仔细抚摩热土的双手


                                     已经无法将记忆折断



                                    洮水流经的村庄断了炊烟


                                        七色鸟飞过长空


                                      谁又能把卓尼的声音


                                       在黑山白水间传遍