Grasp The Gold Baton

Grasp the gold baton,
and up from the knees!
Smooth metal,
and cold on the palm.
Up!
And out!
Shout "The race is on!"
The day is begun.
The sun is sung.
Rake the stars
that shoot overhead.

Arms wide,
and chest to the air.
Cry to the sky
and the gods there.
Leap into oxygen,
that masters and frees.
Grasp the gold baton,
and up from the knees!

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.