Early Morning

In the city that never sleeps, I’m waiting on the bus alongside people who are off to their day jobs. The traffic roars on Queens Boulevard. The 7 train rumbles overhead. (Its windows alight. It’s passengers asleep or looking at their phones.) A man jogs past the bus I’ve just boarded. In all this action, the birds are singing. They’re awake too. Lighted windows in tall apartment buildings tell me that mothers are cooking. The deli sign flashes. The coffee shop is open. Delivery trucks pass and traffic moves in a river across the Queensboro Bridge.

We cross the East River. The passenger in front of me takes a picture of the magnificent Manhattan skyline. I pull the STOP cord. “Please exit through the rear door.” The Wengerd young men have a colorful market set up. They too worked through the night in this city that never sleeps.

“Good morning,” says the man in a wheelchair outside the grocery.

“Good morning,” I say to you. Berniece