But in the crowding darkness not a word did they say.
Though the pretty-coated birds had piped so lightly all the day.
And he had seen the lovers in the little side streets.
And she had heard the morning stories clogged with sweets.
It was quite a time for loving. It was midnight. It was May.
But in the crowding darknesss not a word did they say.
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Comments1Just read this poem, hits close to home. Really makes you think about long term love n its silences, esp when young love is all around. Bittersweet.