Clover
She hovered
above her life—
like a bee
who’d forgotten
what flowers
are for.
Sway
Trees are made
to sway—and
stay. We’re made
to gaze
up and wonder
why no one made
us that way.
Furnishings
Where her favorite
chair had been—
a vacancy.
I filled it with
my emptiness.
Shepherd
Without my
sheep I’d
be lost.
Construction Site, First Light
High up—
the crane
in mist
is building
the sun.
Us
Dust
in
training—
Piecemeal
One black crow
flying through
this blue day—
all jagged, all
edges—like one
piece of a jigsaw
in search
of a puzzle.
Glinting & Beautiful
The day
you left
was like
any other.
A ship
sailed past—
taking its ship-
wreck with it.
Dusk
The children are playing
this game called Goodbye.
Goodbye! one calls. So
long! says another. On
the sidewalk they roll
a suitcase between them.
Cheerio, they say, ta-ta,
farewell. They make a song
of everything and want
us to sing along. We
do our best, standing
on the porch as if
on a pier, waving
and singing, singing
and saying: Don’t go,
don’t go. How small
they are, how
already gone.
Andrea Cohen’s most recent poetry collection is The Sorrow Apartments. A new book, Sugar, will be out in early 2026. She directs the Blacksmith House Poetry Series in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Read Elizabeth Jacobson’s review of Andrea Cohen’s Everything.
Read poetry by Andrea Cohen previously appearing in Terrain.org: seven short poems, one poem, four poems, seven poems, and four poems.
Header photo by Riccardo Zamboni, courtesy Shutterstock. Photo of Andrea Cohen by Razia Iqbal.
