My how her perfume has lingered this long,
rises from random odd places, mere puffs
of her scent still warm, till fanned
by disruptive cool air.
© Chagall 2015
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My how her perfume has lingered this long,
rises from random odd places, mere puffs
of her scent still warm, till fanned
by disruptive cool air.
© Chagall 2015

