Night. Stars. After-rain
the trees have had their share
of tears. Music dies. The sea moans
muted are voices with nothing to declare-
passionate past kisses I remember
now I could find her nowhere
long ago one summer night she whispered
in my ears-- I still can smell the fragrance of her radiant hair.
* inspired by Dorothy Porter******, not Parker (apology) and Chopin's 'Nocturne'