Christine Salvatore

Destination

These days she can’t discern if she is moving toward something or away.

Airline itineraries don’t help: To go north, sometimes,she must first travel west.

And all the time she feels lost on arrival.

When one home replaces another, does the body ever find rest?

Accustomed to being just gone,she has forgotten the solid pain of being present

and at every gate her greeters wait for her absence.
She likes it best in the air–going anywhere–

the checkerboard pattern of the earth shifting slowly beneath her.

North, East,South and West, she would smash the compass glass if she could.

How wonderful to be just leaving,always about to arrive.