timothy cook

Time is of the Essence

brown cocoon bulbs becoming
purple bunched up petals

with cream tips—we sometimes
make time, steal time, tell time

this or that—exploding open
coloring empty branches, many

of the limbs still bare, many
of the flowers in a state of

possibility—sometimes
within the diagnosis the cure,

the divorce the liberation
& other times within

the courtship the breakup,
the baptism the funeral—

the beauty of the flowers
so fleeting, so ephemeral—

we are sometimes covetous
with time, having time,

managing time, sparrows
disperse from branches &

time flies while we kill
time—so soon withered petals

will float to a wet & plush
lawn—in the meantime

we waste time, climb
into leaves, feel the spring

breeze against our bare
limbs—we are sometimes

extravagant with time

Timothy Cook, an Edgewater Chicago native, graduated from Loyola University with a BA in philosophy and from the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College. His poems have recently appeared in such locations as The Main Street Rag, Rogue Agent, Thin Air, and [PANK] Health and Healing Folio, and he is a recipient of a grant from the Mookie Jam Foundation, which supported artists living with multiple sclerosis.