Women die like trees, limb by limb. . .
When I first read Awiakta's poem, I was 35 and, although her words struck chords of instant recognition, it wasn't until another 20 years had passed that her words rang with chilling, stark reality. Indignity by indignity, betrayal by betrayal, women die limb by limb, root by root, until we are worn down to our anchoring taproot.