little green road sweeper in Paris

 

In the dark

Just a spark,

Small and green,

Barely seen,

Wizzing here

Wizzing there,

Hoovering up the dirt and muck,

like a little busy ant,

but noisy like an elephant.

Lights go on around the square…

birds, flap their wings,

somewhere, someone sings.

Time to go

People coming,

Disappearing, hoovering, humming.

m.joy

 

the story behind the poem:

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

There is beautiful pink light bathing the old limestone buildings around the square and as the light goes, a little green road-sweeper appears almost as if operating itself – frantically cleaning the streets below. And someone whistles like a beautiful flute as they cross the square.