Spring Cleaning

The smells of freshly mowed lawn
under the Paris sun, spring
is beginning, tourists crowd before the
metal tower,
some with winter coats have traveled
far, some in shorts have endured too much
snow is now beginning, in the petals
of the grass
The only white
and pristine, against its buds swaying
in news of what's to come, the Seine
dirty with all that has melted,
flowing on; to dance on this water
a new season.