Library

There is a big tree outside my window, a tree I cannot name. It has lush branches and leaves in summer and clear veins in winter. He stood quietly in the hustle and bustle of the city. In the winter afternoon, the golden sunshine filled the branches, attracting three magpies, dozens of sparrows, unknown birds, and a lazy white cat under the tree. Year after year, the light and shadow complement each other.

The snow is making wine, the stars are forging swords, and the iron horse is a young man with a sword. I can't tell the difference between dreams and reality.