Before video streaming was a thing,
you were precariously perched
on a metal hammock hundreds
of feet in the air, your squeegee
squeaking down windows.
I “watched” the games on Yahoo,
reading the play-by-play between revising
articles about Iraq and Afghanistan.
Your radio blared the same plays
in quick melodic Spanish
that seeped through the glass panes.
There was beautiful moments
when everything aligned:
our hands raised in the air, everyone
You to the pedestrians, me to my officemates.