by Gideon Burton
My children's children fanning out across
The decades, thriving in the fertile soil
Of time, will you remember us, the sweaty cost
We paid -- would pay again -- the daily toil
To raise your bodies to the sky, your eyes
To God? Do not unlink these tender bands
Of blood! For though we sleep, our living lies
In gentle generation, quiet, grand:
The babies, children, sisters, brothers, all
That we have cousined through our spreading reach.
Remember them, for through them we will call
To you, persuading though evading speech.
Elijah summons now as to the past
As time bends each of us from first to last.
Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Photo: flickr - Sekaino Ai