Age of the Raccoon Dog

The era had turned once again
It was the time of the Raccoon Dog
The season of omnivory
The people gathered the furs as the new totem
I went to see the trader
He had many pelts for sale
I required one for my drum
Though he certainly tried to sell me more
I decorated my drum
Sewing the fur along the edge
When the moon was new
We drummed to the coming of new things
When the sun eclipsed
We drummed to pray for good health
When all things were equal
We drummed of the balance of the seasons
It would be time for these rituals
For 50 years
The seasons changed and we moved the village
To our summer huts
The hunting was good this blessed year
Many pheasant were taken
And many deer
As well as the dogs and their pelts for trading
The old ways had gone with the disruptions of climate change
We cured our meat, as there were no more refrigerators
Our villages were not lit
Although some still had light
The solar panels would one day be gone too
The batteries we still knew how to make
All things come to an end
So had the mechanized and electrified age of man
What lingered on was but a remnant
Perhaps it would come again one day
But we had the immediate concerns of food and clothing
We had the knowledge of the eras and the new gods
We were prepared to endure, and prosper

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