While artificial snow fell softly

...in "Zero Built a Nest in My Navel," real snow fell with authority here. As people viewed Rondinone's picture of a raven taking a shower, I watched a real raven try to break into the neighbour's garbage can. While people considered Rondinone's haiku-like poems, I wondered if anyone was reading my poems. As people wondered about the type of wood he used, I thought about all the shafts of wood in the forest that surrounds me. The shafts of poems. It was then that someone drove an ATV into my yard, into the middle of my thought, its blade cutting into the very pile of snow at which I stared. That someone proceeded to clear the driveway. I don't know who it was.