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John Tustin

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Peppermint

I was walking the frozen food aisle and I saw her in front of me,
Loading up her cart with frozen dinners.
She was just the right height and not a tattoo in sight.
Dressed in a thin jacket, blue jeans and sneakers,
She turned and looked at me as I stood there
And she gave me a smile before going back to her business.
Her eyes were something else, as grandma used to say.

I imagined she was forty years old, probably had two kids in high school or college
And she divorced her husband because he was unfaithful.
I imagined she was alone most nights and she painted them away while drinking wine.
I began imagining a lot of things standing there
While she read the ingredients on a box of Stouffer’s Lasagna.

I finally turned my face away, put my head down
And walked right past her.
She wore size seven sneakers.
She smelled like peppermint.
I went to the next aisle and then the next
And then I paid the cashier.
I didn’t see her again.

When I got to my car I started to think about it
As I loaded the groceries into the back seat –
If she smelled like spearmint instead of peppermint
She just might’ve had me.

John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. His first poetry collection from Cajun Mutt Press is now available at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C6W2YZDP . fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.
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