As waves pounding this shore

of unrelenting mountain, foothill and field

I am the valley reciprocate

of this white void.

Channel 83 tuned in to the weather

comes up with nothing

but blank stares. 

It is an avalanche of emotion

just opening the curtains.

I am ploughed swift into a vast

refrigerator with a burnt-out light bulb.

I will scream mutely for any breath

only to  be found in this ordinary tundra,

stiff,

 yet still surprised.