Triumph of Consumism

Sitting on the emerging roots
Of an ancient oak
The voice of the forest
Whispering through the leaves
And distant waves of the sea
Crushing on the shore
Of this solitary hill
And the hoot hoot of the rapacious Owl
And the battlecries of ravenous wolves to their lost Moon
There, immersed into the beautiful mists veiling my sights
There, onto this natural epiphany
There, watching the crackling bonfire I realized
I should have bought more Marshmallows.