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The Window washer

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  • The Window washer

    The Window Washer

    There was a secretary working on the 34th floor
    at her desk in a chair by the new boss’s door.
    She could work and polish nails with a snobbish delight,
    type a letter, take dictation in the absence of light,
    brew the coffee, answer phones, solve the problems that bind,
    dab on lipstick and perfume, arrange a meeting on time.

    Outside her window, lightly beat the rain and freezing snow
    on a window washer working on the 34th floor.
    Up at dawn, pack a lunch, wife and kids are asleep.
    Off to work, catch a train from the somber, silent street.
    Check the gears, add some oil and it’s up and up he’ll go
    to meet with Mr. Clean upon the 34th floor.

    She writes a note and holds it up. He sees it at last.
    His frozen fingers write one too and puts it up to glass.
    Her’s said “It’s 72 degrees! Come in and take a chair.”
    His said “It’s 50 bucks an hour mam, in freezing rain out here.”

    Just when you think your thinking is the only way that’s true,
    there’s a window washer working with another point of view.


    Last edited by Namyh; 07-13-2019, 08:25 PM.

  • #2
    Nailed it!


    • #3
      You always make me smile. Your poetry is fun to read and you make it look easy but looking easy is only achieved by the great deal of skill you have