Brown Girl, Brown Girl, what do you see?

I see your witchy skirt,
and messy curly hair.
Sweating beneath the heavy bag
stuffed with borrowed books,
you stomp and crack all the leaves,
but you do not look up.
You don’t see me or the brown squirrel,
but we see you.
I once loved a friend like you,
and she loved me too.
Where are you off to brown girl?