I spoke her name over country lanes,
as though her deeds could  be spread
by telling the sky
Rebecca was the bravest woman;
for she told her Chieftain their children
would never fight for wrong
nor blooden the loam
I felt this was my soliloquy
unaware if association became culpability.
Solemn days linger when I recall
this stand  turned compassion into a quarry.
An exile matched by deeds,
forfeiting liberty
an early grave to put her dreams to.