Orion's Belt —James Dott
Before moon rise
clouds tear loose along the south
open a brief window on
the bright band of three stars,
the ancient hunter’s belt,
though in other tales
those three form
the beam of a balance scale
a bison’s back
three kings, three sisters bathed in light
Mind seeks pattern
traces shapes in the scatter of stars
sees the bison’s humped back
in the crack on the cave wall
then the hand with sharpened horn
scratches in the curve of belly
fits fire to need
moving game
cooking the marrow in the bones
telling the story to its snap and crack
“In Boeotia, long ago
there was a great hunter, Orion…”
The story’s track breaks off,
resumes, forks, dead ends:
Why was he so revered?
Why consigned to the heavens?
endlessly pursuing the seven sisters of the Pleiades
or chasing Lepus, the hare,
never closing in, never falling back
Who set the scorpion upon him?
Who loosed the arrow that pierced his skull?
Artemis?
so skilled with bow,
envying of his aim
fed up with his bragging
that he could hunt down
any creature on the earth
Or her brother, Apollo,
jealous of their long hunts?
Three distant suns
brightness brings them into line
“the belt”
“the string of pearls”
“the golden grains”
names from Arabic:
Alnitak at the east,
a triple star
thirty times our sun
appears most bright
since only eight hundred years have passed
since its light was let fly
Alnilam in the middle
burning sapphire
blue-white super-giant
brightest by far
but not seeming so
being second farthest from our eye
on the west, Mintaka,
the right most, a double star
slightly fainter than the other two
farthest away, furthest back in time
The Hunter’s Moon
clears the fog along the east
clouds blown from the west
gradually shield his belt from view
the bison enters a valley hidden from its hunters
the scale’s beam teeters into, out of, balance
one by one the sister-kings are cloaked in cloud