Lillies
As I run about
in Mum Mode,
poetic images churn
like butter
in my brain.
I honk my horn to
remind drivers
of large trucks
that I too, have a right
to survive
this day, this road,
this family of wants.
Like someone in
a pith helmet,
I stalk
the grocery aisle-
the endless hunt
for wild
sandwich meat,
eternally linked
by smart phone
to Base Command.
In between aisles
and traffic lanes
run rivers of lillies.
I try to catch flying
insects
as they drift by.
Ideas melt like butter
on toast.