Night Shift Sunrise

Night shift sunrise
Five-twelve, the city still blue
One radio waking by the taxi rank
Night people, don't go home yet
Give the morning one dance

Nurse badge turned backward on her chest
Cleaner gloves folded in a grocery bag
Security guard loosens one heavy boot
Baker wears flour like a second shirt
Driver pours tea from a dented flask
Steam climbs white through the headlight rain
Nobody has energy left for talking
Then the coffee man turns that little radio up
One piano chord rolls under the awning
Five tired bodies remember their names

Clock says finish, feet say wait
One more minute at the station gate
Night held long, but we held longer
Count us in before the taxis start

Night shift sunrise, gold on tired eyes
We worked through the dark to hand you morning light
One last dance before the buses take us home
Night shift sunrise, now the night crew owns the dawn

Nurse still here
Still here
Guard still here
Still here
Flour on the sleeve, light in the eyes
Night shift sunrise

A schoolboy waits beside the bread crates
Uniform too big, one shoelace loose
He sees his mother, the quiet cleaner
Turn beneath the awning like she owns the roof
All year he thought she only came home tired
Never knew she had a shoulder roll like that
He drops his backpack, copies her badly
She laughs so hard she has to hold the cart
Now the nurse leads, the driver answers
Even the guard puts both boots back on
First taxis fill with people going to work
While the people who made morning finally dance

Clock says finish, feet say wait
One more minute at the station gate
Night held long, but we held longer
Count us in before the city starts

Night shift sunrise, gold on tired eyes
We worked through the dark to hand you morning light
One last dance before the buses take us home
Night shift sunrise, now the night crew owns the dawn

Badge up
One
Gloves down
Two
Flour shake
Three
Turn around
Four
Tea cup high
Five
Boot heel twice
Six
Schoolbag swing
Seven
Morning light
Eight

They call it sunrise like the sun did all the work
Like bread rose by itself
Like floors woke clean
Like locked doors guarded their own sleep
But the city woke because we didn't
Every bright window owes the dark a name
Before the buses hide us in the morning
Look at us once in the light we made

Night shift sunrise, gold on tired eyes
My boy saw me dancing, not just coming home tired
Nurse, guard, baker, driver—step into the light
The city woke because we worked the night
Night shift sunrise, now the night crew owns the dawn

Five-twenty-three, the first bus sighs
The boy takes his mother's hand
Flour on the pavement, tea on the cart
Sun on everybody's face
Night shift sunrise