White lights.

You walked these aisles
and stood at the check-out stand
looking ahead to
the next event
the next opportunity to
fill your cart to the brim
each time learning to maneuver
life's supermarket
with more ease and style.

Shiny lights reflecting
surfaces scrubbed clean
footprints
spills
written orders of importance
and sequence of events
all traces of previous lives
erased every hour
on the hour.

We live private lives in public places, yet, few traces
of ourselves exist anywhere.
Except in a mother's heart where it all started.