MUSED Literary Magazine.
Poetry

Finding Solace in the Woods

William Ruleman

I feel that little matters anymore.
Too old to make a million, garner fame,
To care who loses or who wins a war,
To hope to clear my smeared and sullied name,
I feel it time to cease from keeping score
And settle down with my six feet of shame
To reap what reason and tranquility
Could still remain in this warped world for me.

Yet there are treasures that the earth affords
Despite society and its weird ways.
I love a mountain valley’s sweeping swards,
A luscious forest with its leafy maze
Where I can flee the city and its hordes
And lose myself in dreams of love for days.
Whenever cities greet me with disdain,
These sheltering woods will show me I am sane.