When it is too cold to snow, when the plumbing & car engines are frozen, when the clouds are frozen together into a cement ceiling, when what is required is an overabundance of faith to believe there’s a sun above the clouds, that winter will ever end, when the mounds piled onto lawns have frozen together, frozen over fifths of liquor, when the Lake’s surface is frozen, another world beneath teeming with activity, a man frozen in motion frozen in time shovels the walk as he has done over & over during his days, working the Pharaoh’s frozen land, beyond him the pooled gutter drain frozen over, reflected in it the moon.
Timothy Cook graduated from Loyola University with a BA in philosophy and from the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College. His work has appeared in Rogue Agent, [PANK], Health and Healing Folio, pioneertown, and San Pedro River Review, and he received a grant from the Mookie Jam Foundation.