Those old enough will know James Dean,
slick red jacket – denim jean.
The flick that still can give me pause,
was named the “Rebel Without a Cause.”
The year was nineteen fifty-five,
I was ten and so alive.
I dreamed of me and Natalie,
switch blade knives and running free.
She was truly my first love,
a fit as strong as hand and glove.
I bought the jacket – wore the jeans,
watched that show on many screens.
Dean – he died in that same year,
a drowning ended her career.
Our future we just can’t foresee,
so here’s a Rhyme for Natalie.