Brave New World, 1948

Maiden voyage making my way 
To the new world, so naïve 
At four I didn’t know what 
To make of an ice cream when 
It was handed to me on deck 
By the first black man I’d ever seen. 

Standing frozen there next to mom, 
I held on to it and her and watched 
It melting as I mustered the courage 
To move to the railing and throw it away— 
I still don’t know what flavor it was 
I was casting away.