Fashion Show

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Did she think, “Depression,” 
            As banks collapsed, 
Men took to the road, farms 
            Reclaimed and lost? 

In home ec. class she sewed 
            For their fashion show, 
Giving each shy stitch its care. 
            She knew how. 

But to think of crossing the stage 
            At Franklin School 
Gave a chill like Utah frost 
            To bone and muscle 

In the warm Arizona weather 
            Where she’s new. 
Was “Depression” a time?—or money
            Still just slow? 

Cleaned shoes, new dress, and hair
            Combed carefully so. 
“At Molly, before me, they laughed.”
            (Ha, ha. Ho, ho.) 

“She runs a women’s store now. 
            Is well-to-do.” 
But she who expected the laugh, 
            The blushful to-do, 

Made it across the stage 
            With the simple poise 
Of the modest, of those who believe
            That neither praise

Nor censure is their due 
            In a public place, 
Or performance the game expected
            Of their race.