Saleswoman 02(2/7)

The flowers follow the breeze,

into the stream,

sometimes lift it up,

Watching the outside world carefully,

Can't tell which is a flower and which is a butterfly

&

There is a bridge over the creek,

The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,

The grass that just sticks its head out,

The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,

Bend it now and then,

The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,

attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,

As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,

The shimmering light of fireflies shuttled through the grass.

danced lightly,

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Naughty blowing little bubbles,

;swaying gracefully,