The Writer's Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website
Maybe
by
Megan Estey
Maybe you’ll pick me up at eight,
drive downtown in your rusting pickup truck
Maybe I’ll wear a sundress, and you’ll wear a baseball
cap
Maybe we’ll go to some scary movie,
so you can feel strong when I have to cover my eyes
Maybe we’ll go out to eat after,
Suck thick milkshakes through skinny straws,
And spill ketchup on the gingham tablecloth
And leave the waitress a larger tip than she really deserves
Maybe we’ll drive home in the honey-colored starlight
With the windows down and the radio playing
Maybe we’ll kiss goodnight, between my lip gloss and
your breath mint,
On the porch, like some 50’s sitcom,
And maybe my brother will watch like Beaver Cleaver
Maybe then you’ll drive off into the lilac-scented
night,
Leaving me to slip into the silent house,
Since it’s past my curfew.
Or maybe I’ll sit home alone,
Watching M*A*S*H reruns and bonding with the couch,
Waiting for the phone to ring.
Critique this work
Click on the book to leave a comment about this work
