RELAY THE FLUMMOXED RACE

The day of the great race had come.
The crowds stood shivering in the sun,
Awaiting the outcome, for just one
Would be told that they had won.

Four teams stood huddled together,
Nervously talking to their fellows.
All teams, dressed in the same color,
Reds, blues, greens and yellows.

The instructions were very clear.
Each team was given one stick.
The stick, they were told, was quite dear.
They were to carry it through thin or through thick.

One team member was to pass
The stick on to the next person,
And so forth, until the last
Crossed the finish, which was a white ribbon.

Each runner lined up, all ready,
The first ones holding their stick,
The next ones awaited their buddy,
So they could grab it and run quick.

A hush overcame the crowd,
As all waited for the “GO” sign.
When the shot rang out really loud,
The runners jumped up in a line.

Blue was faster than the rest,
But didn’t want to let go.
Oh dear, what a mess!
Blue kept running, and running, and so…

All the Blues ran to join in,
Chasing the first Blue runner.
The Blues gave up trying to win,
Because chasing around was much funner!

The first Yellow didn’t even start.
Instead, she sat down on the ground,
And drew pictures in the dirt,
Of flowers that they had found.

The other Yellows wandered off,
To pick more flowers to draw,
And thus they made what they sought,
A mural of all that they saw.

The Red runner was next,
But wouldn’t let go of the stick.
Reds gathered together to wrest
The stick away, til it was slick!

The Reds played Tug-O-War,
Pulling the stick, all many sided,
Falling down, then jumping for more,
Laughing harder when giggling subsided.

The Green runner’s pass was perfected.
His buddy was beginning to run,
Holding on to the stick he’d accepted,
When they saw a leaf on the stick in the sun…

Green’s stick was still alive!
Green’s stick wanted to grow!
“Plant it!” The Greens stopped to decide.  
“Stick the stick in the earth, just so.”

“Then water it so it can live.”
The Green team dug a hole.
Which left no winner to give
An award to, no, not one soul.

The white ribbon fluttered unbroken.
Not one team had crossed the line,
Yet all teams had gained the unspoken,
The better part, the sublime.

For who defines what is winning?
Who defines where’s the line?
They each got what they were beginning
To seek, and that was just fine.

By cindy
3/24/2019