Postcards from Paris: {Marching to the Sound...}

of Beating Drums.
...Under a shady area right off the Metro Abbesses, but there were little sunspots shining through the openings of the leaves. I could not have made this discovery on my own. I was following a crowd.
Oh French children:
walking, talking, or drumming along.
They charm me.
This scene could have happened anywhere. But it was in Paris. Just after I had eaten a delicious fondant au chocolat with almonds, and just before a Spring thunderstorm; a well-appreciated sequence of events, on my behalf.



bisous,
Reba