Sophie Doulut, The Epiphany of the Four Seasons coat

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Proud forehead and burning glance, The Medicine Woman started her dance Chanting her prayers in a strange language Blurting spasmodic onomatopoeia from her lineage. She looks like game with her feathered headdress, Pheasant-like in her gestures and address, A dark owl which suddenly stops dead In front of the ghosts which turn red In anger as if deprived of holy tobacco And still haunting the living with an embargo. Gathered crowd and curious minds Defile with the...

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