Indeed, the sky was overcast that day.
And in monsieur Arnaud’s backyard,
Henrietta, the cleverest chicken was
to traverse on a journey hitherto unknown.

~

dans  la maison, the aroma of ground spices was wafting in the air,
sans the meat; la prescient Henrietta,
gazed at the sky one last time,
before her life would end in a cauldron of hot water.

~

Oblivious to Henrietta’s plight,
the pássaros from Amazon gleefully glided
on the vast canvas, creating a million design
of murmurations, for the passersby to marvel at their collective conscience.

~

Henrietta’s plead for help reached the ears of an uncommon starling
and no sooner the thought waves crept into her tiny mind,
than a rush of energy spread across her body, commanding
a swift action to save the chicken’s life pronto.

~

En masse the birds flew, past the rotunda,
past the river Seine, past