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when they took the first one she howled
her screams bowed the young cane leaves
twisted the green shoots
lifted its hungry roots


when they took the second, her cries
rose up to the clouds, woke Rainstorm *
from her slumber, brought
showers tumbling down


with the third her sobs rolled backwards
into her throat, drowned there
and by the fourth and fifth
her heart had become a stone

* an Amerindian creation mythological figure, said to be crying when it rains