Passing place short #3

The shaman walked around me
Circling slowly
Shaking medicine bag and rattle stick
Pushing my head over fire
I breathe deeply of the smoke
He circles again
The world shrinking
Becoming the smoke around me
Choking, cloying water to my eyes
His chants go on
His voice is as far from me as
Names to bring the spirits close
To guide the boy to manhood
Agnooka,,,,,,, Weaver of Tears
Her name fills my mind
I call out her name, and know not why
The voice is not mine
The words of the shaman lost to her calling
A new voice filled the air

Come to me,”
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