Nostalgia for the Feral Soul

Refreshing ruminant manure marauds my senses

and the cacophony of discord amongst evolved beasts lessens

Letting me know I have escaped urban tribulation.

Purifying pine scents enlighten my spirits,

and swaying of trees soothes my distressed soul.

I am welcomed into a haven of feral harmony.

I look through the window of a box.

All I see is synthetic landscapes.

All I hear is the whizzing of cars.