There Will Come Soft Rains — Vocabulary
Ray Bradbury
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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.†

Over this ran aluminum roaches and iron crickets, and in the hot still air butterflies of delicate red tissue wavered among the sharp aroma of animal spoors!†

In the last instant under the fire avalanche, other choruses, oblivious, could be heard announcing the time, playing music, cutting the lawn by remote-control mower, or setting an umbrella frantically out and in the slamming and opening front door, a thousand things happening, like a clock shop when each clock strikes the hour insanely before or after the other, a scene of maniac confusion, yet unity; singing, screaming, a few last cleaning mice darting bravely out to carry the horrid ashes away!†

How carefully it had inquired, 'Who goes there?†

Now the walls dissolved into distances of parched weed, mile on mile, and warm endless sky.†

Animals took shape: yellow giraffes, blue lions, pink antelopes, lilac panthers cavorting in crystal substance.†

The dirty dishes were dropped into a hot washer and emerged twinkling dry.†

The quenching rain ceased.†