Perfumed Breeze
Out of those spring fragrances that the air diffused , he still adores the mild perfumed breeze from her luscious locks when he hugs her.
Spring is full of smells, and the poem begins by acknowledging that: the air carries many fragrances. But from all of them, the man in the poem picks just one. What he still adores, and the word "still" suggests this feeling has lasted, is the soft scent of his partner's hair when he holds her.
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