Relay

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Aluminum baton, sprinted
to a teammate's backstretched hand;

a command in code run barefoot
on an ancient battlefield;

on Field Day, an egg on a spoon in the fist
of a meandering sixth grade dreamer

whose team was in the lead before
he dropped the egg in the grass;

or the passing on of genetic code
and my father's name, and joy,

to a boy, the solitary dreamer
they lured from his room down the stairs

to share with his siblings in popcorn and TV,
and lulled by their soft laughter

after all the kids were in bed:
the relay stops with me.

May their memory, in stories and rhymes,
be enough, passing on, to pass on.

Image by Susan Rouse.
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