To live and die in the North Hemisphere:
They told me black hair thrives when it is cold
To lie to them, to hide my red-stained tears…
I should have listened the first time they told
me I was young, and them too cursed for me
(A force learning to operate alone.)
Those winter nights prepared my skin to freeze,
New England nights! My feet could walk on bone.
I shivered but they offered me no coat,
For they knew me to be too stubborn then-
And read it in my eyes, my flames which wrote;
“I’ll no longer bend to the wills of men.”
The trees here lose their leaves, the sticks remain;
Until I break them down they bear the chains.
