# WutongSon

By [KristiK36205900](https://paragraph.com/@kristik36205900) · 2021-10-08

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There little thoughts began to fall rustle, rustle, and many a mysterious beauty fell into my mind. I was suddenly confused. My little mind could hardly bear the excitement. I just picked up a fallen leaf in a confused way. The leaves were brown and curved, like a boat carrying a dream, and there were two beautiful parasol seeds on the side of the boat. Every gust of wind I shuttle in the fallen leaves of the rain, picked up a wutong son. Must a sycamore or two, which I did not pick up, have sprouted in the meadow? After twenty years, I seem to hear the distant west wind and the rustling leaves in it. I can still see the ships carrying dreams, sailing on the prairie, sailing on a seed of hope.

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*Originally published on [KristiK36205900](https://paragraph.com/@kristik36205900/wutongson)*