Would Scarcely Know...

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And the frogs in the pools singing at night,
And the wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

- Sara Teasdale

pictures are not mine
brushes are from here. [link]
textures are from here. [link]

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