Solitude:  Space to be me. Seagull over shoreline. Crashing waves. Footprints in sand.

Ecstasy:  Lifting heart to the moon.

Gratitude:  Filled to the brim, at the brink of boiling.

Mercy:  Eyes deep as jungle pools of love.

Hunger:  Gnawing teeth through the bone of dissatisfaction.

Pain:  Too hard to break a word open to.

History:  Webs in the corner rafters trapping the same old insects over and over.

Peace:  That lake of cat tails that also reflects the moon and I.