Spring Cleaning
There’s a reason why the windows
Don’t get cleaned but once a year
And the answer, like my windows now,
Is obvious and clear.
It’s an awful, dirty job and it
Takes effort, time and sweat,
With an unobstructed view the only
Bonus that you’ll get.
If you live in an apartment,
On a floor up several flights,
Then the misery’s compounded
By the dizziness of heights.
For each time I grab a window,
I can picture my descent
And my husband in the doorway
Wondering where the hell I went.
Still, with rolls of paper towels
And a Windex, all a’spritz,
All the grime that I’ve been granted
Has just up and called it quits.
Now the vistas of the city
Are there beckoning to me;
Though they might have done so prior,
There was no way I could see!
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