Insouciance

Insouciance

This morning where the thrushes sing
unseen and where the blackbirds hunt,
spring marches on relentless as
the movement on the eastern front.

Ce matin, les grives en haut
des peupliers au fil de l’eau
chantent insouciants le beau soleil,
tout comme si de rien n’était.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

11 thoughts on “Insouciance”

    1. Not an obvious sort of a word to be thinking of at the same time, especially not at this time!
      The state of the world is so trembling on the brink, I’m not surprised our wires our crossing all the time though.

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