Nomad

 I map my body with the planets
and my movements with the stars.
An endless rising and setting,

from solid to translucent.

 

Sometimes I am Mars

familiar but not,

stable but battle-weary,

occasionally living in retrograde.

 

Maybe I’m Venus,

mysteriously toxic,

or looming Jupiter,

a planetary body with an unknown form.

 

But I am always a wanderer,

grounding myself in time and motion.

Darting from place to place

clearing my own orbital path.

 

Some days I am stretched out

I am all of it:

and I look for my terminator,

dividing my feet and my eyes when

 

home is peripatetic

and becomes the stillness between places

and the web making pictures across a map

with points like constellations.