winter's feeble final attempt
fails to even hide the asphalt
disappears by lunch
except in the best of shadows
we can no longer ignore
spring is here
we wait for machines to clean streets
for restaurants to restore stored tables to patios
snow-plows slumber in hibernation
big flat shovels slink to the back of sheds
rakes and hoes and spades
eager to take the place of their winter counterparts
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