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,
add some 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.

Namyh