She says she's an artist-

A photographer.

When you exchange names

She offers her hand.

She says she's

A bit of an under-achiever,

A slow starter.

She's compiling a portfolio,

Going about it modestly-

Her sense of humor

Evident.

She says she's shy-

Photographing things

Rather than people...

Watching her wait tables:

Attentive, focused,

Moving confidently

From customer to kitchen.

It is hard work

She makes look easy.

She accepts a compliment,

But credits her father

For good advice.

There is a moment,

As she responds to a question,

When the energy of her presence

Diminishes.

She looks away,

Into a distance...

Remembering that look,

In that moment,

You are reminded

Of lines of poetry

Whose source

You have been unable to trace-

'My heart has left its resting place

And shall return no more'.

* found: 'First Love' by John Clare (1793-1864), "My heart has left its dwelling- place

And can return no more."