--- 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.