Two Constellations

Two Constellations | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

The great nebula in Orion, from a study made in the years 1875-76. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.


He doesn’t know his belt’s gone out of style,
or that he needs a license,
that hunting has a season now.

He is still in the endless forests of his past,
the pine-rich darkness, the crush of snowdrops at his feet.

Does he feel eyes on him
as he searches the same ground each night,
his quarry always ahead?

Could he not know?

His dogs have sensed it,
Major and Minor, who follow him anyway,
hoping he will touch their heads
if he ever lowers his bright arms.


Cassiopeia sits     in her chair 
wondering where    the train is going
wondering where    as blackness slips by
left and right    she left her bag

Sitting upright       in the stiff-backed chair

Get comfortable   the conductor said 
when she got on    the night is long

Sarah Cohen is the poet in residence of the Washington State chapter of Physicians for Social Responsibility. Her poems have been published in The Paris Review, The Threepenny Review, Pool Poetry, and others.
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