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Little green road-sweeper in Paris
The story behind the poem

It is a warm early evening in summer and I am standing on a balcony, looking down on a square somewhere in central Paris.

There is a beautiful pink light bathing the old limestone buildings around the square and as the light goes, one of those little green road-sweepers appears almost as if operating itself - frantically cleaning the streets below.

And someone whistles like a beautiful flute as they cross the square.

by Maria Joy

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