A new collection of poems exploring the fine line between abundance and apocalypse. For some reason, slightly unfathomable, I am reminded of a forest we visited on Japan's northern island of Hokkaido where the annual winter ice festival is held. The forest is sprayed for days by the local fire department, but not before flowers and colored lights have been hung within the branches, so when the whole forest turns to crystalline ice, the lights burn from within, the whole crystal forest glows, and when you walk there, flowers look out from the ice, arrested in full bloom. It is all so unexpected, and so extravagantly beautiful-something essential in such crystallization, and with fire in its core. Well, this vision returned to me reading your manuscript. -Eleanor Wilner