To My Mother on Her Birthday: How Your Lilies Pulled Me Under
Spilling over the hillside
Splashing against the asphalt
Bright white foam dripping over leafy waves.
Scores of lilies rush against the road.
Tumbling in the wind, wet from rain, scooping up the sun, tossing light across the glass–dragging me, a reluctant swimmer, from my car into their sea.
I pull myself to shore.
Behind me the lilies spill over the hillside
distracting other drivers from their day.