First Wheels on Juniper Lane

Before the first window shines yellow, Etta rolls her broom along the lane. Its bristles whisper over scattered leaves, sweeping a clear path beside the stalls. She waves to a shutter beginning to rise. Juniper Lane, lift your sleepy head. One more worker is out of bed.

Paz arrives with a cart of flowers, purple and gold beneath the pale sky. But a trailing cord catches around one wheel. She pulls the handle; the cart stays still. "My flowers will miss the market!" she sighs. Juniper Lane, lift your sleepy head. One more worker is out of bed.

Malik opens his bicycle repair shop and sees Paz beside the stubborn cart. He kneels to loosen the tangled cord, lifting each loop away from the spokes. The freed wheel turns beneath his hand. "Try now," he says. "I'll walk with you." Juniper Lane, lift your sleepy head. One more worker is out of bed.

Past Etta's tidy path the cart rolls smoothly. Paz reaches her stall beside Malik's door. She fills tall buckets with bright bouquets, then sets a small bunch on his workbench. "For helping my morning get started," she says. Juniper Lane, lift your sleepy head. One more worker is out of bed.

Wen the sign painter opens her shutters. She hangs a poster with the heading "Juniper Market." Below it, she has drawn the little stalls. The caption says, "Our lane at work." She adds a purple flower beside a bicycle. Juniper Lane, lift your sleepy head. One more worker is out of bed.

Now footsteps gather along the clear path. A child points to Wen's painted flower; Paz holds up a matching purple bloom. Malik waves from his open doorway, and Etta rests her broom against the wall. Each small beginning has made room for another. Juniper Lane, lift your sleepy head. The morning is ready. Come out of bed.