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Bad Spirit

They rode through the deep canyon
Red ochre covered the ground
The last rains had made the tracks
He would use ochre to draw
In a cave he knew
Where a bear once lived
Until he killed it
He would sketch the hunt
When they chased the buffalo
He would sketch
The big one
That took twenty arrows
To bring it down
Its hide was hard
Its food was bad
It must have been a bad spirit

© Copyright 2016 by Jack Scoltock. All rights reserved

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