those

solitary poles in the axial

spin of their snow globe.

haloed convenants clustering

anonymous eyes, broadcasting

a running channel of real time

dream.

stranger than a passerby, stranger

still the lonely viewer of the screen.

exposure and nonexposure to

an interplay of elements beyond

weather, yet being driven by the force

behind it all.

were it that a passerby would stop

and look up at a snowcam, with the

feeling of being looked at by a stranger.

to the astonishment of a lonely viewer,

an intimate spell of white suspends

the snowflakes.

an untranslatable moment, with no

lapse but the seeming release of snowflakes

thereafter...

and an unbroken spell.