<p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我踩着没有指向的路，以为</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">只是路过——护城河摊开</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">五公里长的镜面，芦苇</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">把天空划成细密的格，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">一只白鹭单腿立在浅滩，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">像在测量水的耐心。</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">城墙从芦苇丛中升起，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">青砖的灰是六百年雨水</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">反复擦拭的颜色。</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我伸手，指尖触到</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">一块被岁月磨圆的棱角，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">那一刻我不再是游客，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">而是误入旧时光的慢行者。</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">南大街的石板路，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">被行人和光阴</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">打磨成温润的墨玉。</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">红灯笼在檐角轻轻晃，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">像有人把心跳</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">挂在了半空。</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">而真正让我停住的，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">是城墙根下的拳影。</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">老人缓缓起势，掌心</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">推开晨雾，又收拢</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">像抱着一团看不见的水。</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">他的动作那么慢，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">慢到让整座城</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">都跟着安静下来。</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我学着抬手，笨拙地</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">在空气中画弧——</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">太极不是招式，是呼吸，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">老人说，这座城</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">练了六百年</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">暮色从飞檐上垂落时，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我坐在茶馆的木凳上，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">听棋子落枰的脆响。</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">隔壁桌上，一碗茶</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">冒着热气，不问来处。</span></p> <p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我不再想走出去了——</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">护城河的水波还在晃，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">但城的边沿，已经</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">融进了我的呼吸里。</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">像一块刚被磨圆的青砖，</span></p><p class="ql-block"><span style="font-size:22px;">我留在了城墙的弧度之中。</span></p>