Maureen

I went to Starbucks today.  And it seemed to be "strangers talking to Brianna" day, because a woman came all the way up to my table and craned over my laptop to look at me, asking, "Maureen?"  She sounded bashful when she realized that I wasn't her friend Maureen, but she did ask me flat out if I was Maureen before she came to that realization.  I felt bad that I had to tell her no, but I tried to make sure she didn't feel too embarrassed, I thought she was adorable.

So I wrote this silliness.

April 17, 2013

Maureen?
Is that you?
I'm sorry,
it's just that you look
just like my friend Maureen.
She used to have hair
golden blonde
like yours and sunbeams.
And she might have worn
purple glasses
when we were little girls
playing hopscotch all summer.
But the best thing
about Maureen
was how she could sit
smack in the middle
of a crowded room,
open a book
at the marked page,
and disappear.
Just like that.
It was as if she dissolved
into dust motes
or a lost breath.
But I guess you're not her,
she never wore nail polish
in green.

"The funny thing about stop signs is that they're also start signs."

- Maureen Johnson