Outside Zhonghua Gate, there is a river. The river makes a bend around my residence, resembling a spoon. There is a monument on the handle of the spoon. A bridge is being built. This bridge is much higher than the bridge in 1947 and is designed to be one lane wider. In the ripples of the water, many steel frames were erected on the two bridge piers, just like two birds flying high on both sides of the bridge, singing to each other. I walk across the nearby pedestrian bridge every day, and I can always feel their pulse and strength in the rising sun.
Intention: random thoughts