Your best days are to come…
White and red roses, armed with their wit spikes
Burgeon to drive out this belated winter:
Boom… Boom… Boom…
Twenty-two projectile shots from mounted guns…
Birds fly high in the Grand Palais’ sky, over its inaccessible roof glass
And Adults run followed by their tiny kids:
All would see this year Presidencial Parade.
Young Man, your d-day has come
Hope that Your best days are to come!