One pelican.
One dolphin.
One white heron.
One woman.

One mother with a child
Asks me to take their picture
To capture them with that first,
New, magical snow
On Topsail
(Where she grew up,
Though she lives in Boca now.).

They point to the dolphin.
I take the photo.

The pelican skims the surface of the water
With knowledge and skill born in the time
Of dinosaurs and hermit crabs
And turtles resuming their conversation
With the sea.

The mother with a child
Asks me over and over if I’d like my own picture
Taken with that first snow. 
She wants to do this for me.
She is lovely.

How to tell her
That I am not here,
That I am not worthy of the snow or sun,
And I am waiting for that one heron
To take flight in front of me again
And bless the day with silence and solitude,

That I may begin again,
That I might be here.

One Single Impression