“She Was Born Today in 1915”
She was born today in 1915; a Ward, a Southern family,
All the right connections, schooling privately refined.
Atlanta knew her people, reputations there so well defined.
But then, she bucked the stream, and while she found herself a simile,
Nothing close to metaphor, a fine engagement placed in all the papers,
Still, she’d play no part, and with a little cash she’d saved,
She headed west, a landing first in Alabama; braved
The second verse of formal Southern hospitality, terse in capers,
Yes, it’s true, but she’d no seat in that sweet déjà vû, and once again,
Toward the West she drove and drove and wouldn’t stop
Before the goal of all her fire hit kindling in San Diego where she flopped.
She domiciled, hung a shingle high above the door for the War, gained
Fine employment, Consolidated for the duration, and for all that slid
Through years to 1944, the day I saw the light of day:
Delivered to America as one fine male December kid.