In the early dawn, as sun starts to peek
The city awakens from its slumber deep
A window washer rises with a grin
Ready to face the heights and begin
His day atop lofty structures high
Where his work takes him towards the sky.
He dresses in gear, safety always first
Harness strapped tight, no risk to thirst
For adventure or for a fleeting thrill
As he knows heights can be treacherous and chill
But his courage never falters, not even a bit
As he steps out, ready for the day’s grit.
At the rooftop now, with machines in tow
He prepares his tools, his trusty broom and woe
The squeegee too, ensuring spots pristine
For clients who will marvel at the shining sheen.
Then he sets up, checks his equipment
And with a deep breath, starts the ascent steep.
Suspended in air, he dangles at heights
Where vertigo can be a frightening blight
But our hero focuses on the task at hand
Steady and calm, like an artist’s brush or band
He maneuvers with skill and expertise
Leaving behind streak-free windows in his rise.
Floor after floor, he conquers each level
His heart filled with joy that only height can revel
Through blinding rain, chilly winds or scorching sun
He presses onward, a true soldier, never to shun
The responsibility of his job and role
To make the city’s facades gleam like a dazzling jewel.
At each stop he greets familiar faces
With friendly smiles and warm embraces
Chats about life with office dwellers
And shares tales from his high-rise quellers
Bonding over this unique job, so rare
Forming friendships that transcend the stare.
As lunchtime rolls around, a well-deserved break
Gives him time to eat and catch up on some flake
Of news or gossip, before he heads back
To continue his quest of windowed rack
His work a testament to skill and daring
A tale few others can hope to sharing.
The day wears on, the sun starts to set
And as shadows grow longer, he knows it’s time to let
Go of these heights, for now at least
As his workday ends and he heads back east
Feeling a sense of accomplishment profound
Another day conquered, feet firmly on the ground.
And so, as the city sleeps once again
Our high rise window washer retires in vain
For his dreams are filled with heights and swings
Of squeegees and brooms, a symphony of things
That only he can truly understand or see
As life goes on from atop his towering spree.
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McMike's Melodic Verses 