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--- J A M E S   B R I A N   L I V I N G S T O N E

Brook inches beneath ample ice 
laden cold. Rich clouds contemplate 
lowered branches. This dusk this day 
presumes to tremble. Frost crunches
Laboured heft of feet. I evoke 

dark grounds distant winters. Hooked beaks tear meat in snowy talons Lilac buds think hard about new swellings. Winter solstice descends ice-cold hills. An assembly

of stars, together, gather light Fresh-green winds warm deep in southern valleys. Ancient trees arch naked from cruel ground: Brook rises, far beneath the press of cold.

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