Approaching you see
That it isn't Hawkweed
Peppering the highway;
Just men safely clad,
Attending to their civic duty:
Busing the winter's refuse,
In plastic weighing so heavy.
In preparation for the season,
Our surface for feasting is ready.
Jovial medleys fill the air.
Tunes sung from the Sun,
Herald the robin's return
But first, let's clean
To welcome our tenants
Home.
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