She stands in a lemon grove, Juniper berries for teeth. Reaching for the tops of the trees, she suddenly finds herself towering over them. Looking down, she sees that in her haste to grow, she has destroyed all the fruit.
She tries to walk carefully, but her new size is burdensome. Awkwardly, she steps into a puddle, turning it into a river. She is ashamed that she will never know in which direction it flows.
She tries to turn away from it, and walk upstream but the current is persistent; "You're not done creating ruin" it laughs at her, nipping at her ankles.
She realizes her eyes have been shut the entire time. Seeking relief, she opens them only to find that someone has stolen all seven precious stones from inside her body. curious as to who would despise her this much she grows taller until she hits her head on something, it is the reflection of her self.
Great poem.
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