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1.1785-1803 I First met the light and shook it Aux Caycs, my mother la Creole Rabin who dies. I am one. Father finds for me a stepmother and they together a halfsister , Muguet called Rosa, & he is away. In his fields I cut pieces of cane for me & Rosa to suck. I am Jean. My father marin learned this language in an English prison. Later I count my days from France sometimes, this place Saint Domingue maman hard to remember. New world it is, my warm island, •wilderness churning beyond the lines of coffee plants. The woman names me again Fougere you would say Fern, names are charms and we need them. There are places I cannot take the little one. Edges of things are dangerous—where sea and land meet, or field and forest, things get loose from their names. On the edge of my family I call myself LaForet my first self before I knew French or african or english words. I saw red birds sign themselves in air before they sang, flourishing. "Parroquet. Trogon." She carried me outdoors & I reached for them, my stepmother said. I am Jean Jacques Fougere LaForet Rabin Audubon. Audubon Enfant i ...

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