Wooden door latch

  Treasure a wooden latch.
  It is a section taken directly from a piece of wood. Don’t leave behind the two wooden doors, and push the night out of the house, leaving the lights and stoves to the wood oil, salt, and pen and ink on the table. The iron pot for cooking tea and the rice dumplings were reserved for needlework and books; the whole piece of velvet-like ink blue night sky was left to the small courtyard outside the house.
  The wooden door latch is the patron saint of the house, and it is a contract that refers to the alliance of wood inside and outside the house. After the door was bolted, the two sides of the board were arched opposite each other, and then turned and dreamed independently without disturbing each other. Before dawn, there is almost nothing to disturb the door latch. Those who want to enter the house sit on the steps in front of the door and wait, not knocking or moving, starlight or firewood, even if it is floral.
  I used to be young and had a good time with wooden latches. The trees all over the mountain are its family members or relatives. When the wind blows, the whole family gently follows the wind.
  There was once Chiba fluttering, and the green clothes looked tired of changing the red robes, going through the spring, summer, autumn, and winter, and waiting for the dream to fly and hug gently, and the front was exhausted for Liang Weidong.
  I also used to be independent in the cold mountains. I rolled off Bai Xue’s clothes and pulled thousands of Yusi Na shoes, waiting for Ji Riliangchen to bend down and become a gift.
  A latch, like a dormant flame, as well as a stable note, exists in the void in a real and quiet way, to comfort those who need it. Although it doesn’t grow a leaf, I have a lot of thoughts in my heart.
  This wooden door latch in the family has been used for almost 30 years, and was brought home from the mountain by my father. When you come, don’t give up, don’t say a word, don’t go one step further. The sky clasped the waist of the door tightly, and dawn shrank hands behind the door. I have been guarding our home, my sister and I have long hair and waist, my parents have blue silk and cream, and my grandmother waits for the fourth generation.
  Today, it is still a member of the family. It was just that it latched on to the portal, but now it is chained to memories. It bears the fingerprints of every family member, remembers the laughter of every relative, witnesses the vicissitudes of time, and witnesses the joy of life.
  There are always some good memories that need to be passed on in the most traditional way; there are always some precious feelings that need to be retained with the most primitive persistence. A latch is like a folk ballad in a small village. It is not very useful, but it is indispensable.
  If I can choose, I will do the latch once, with the green hills in the arms and the vegetation on the side, rejoicing. If I still have a choice, I want to accompany a warm wooden door, and every day I hear the opening sound of “squeak and yeah”, with the wooden table, wooden chair, and wooden window, with my family, smile warm and stay here Precious world, live again.

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