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Calling Eagle

Calling Eagle

She tied each feather carefully to her arms and legs
Then she placed the beak-mask upon her face
She combed her hair up into a nest-like mess
Then she closed her eyes and she danced
Until she no longer stood in the grass
Rising up into the clouds where she called Eagle
To come to her on the winds of her own making

This is my journey.
— Nate Long “Owl”

Ink with digital manipulation

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