Poetry · Writing

Window Washer

The shine in his eyes on summer

nights reminds him of the window.

The window he cleaned for summer

fees on those same summer nights.

He saw her.

Making tea for the neighbors at white picnics.

Taking her lone kid to church on Sundays while the mister dialed home that evening.

Playing muisc to the neighborhood children on fall mornings.

It couldn’t be the dream he

believed on those summer nights.

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