The Floating Man
          Tonight I am in a mist.  I barely know what’s what.
                                                                        -John Keats
 
It started during a trial.  I was sitting there listening to the DA’s
       opening statement when I started floating about the courtroom,
 
over the judge, the jurors, the bailiffs, my client, the victim’s family     
       wearing matching shirts with his super-imposed photo. 
 
I could even see me— whispering to my client, taking notes,     
       staring into space.  I looked tired and I needed a haircut. 
 
The next time I floated, I was at a baseball game with my two
       sons.  They were still pretty little.  I let them climb
 
to the top row of the upper deck.  I drifted way up to keep
an eye on them.
 
Far above the stadium, I could see the arc of the fly ball that fell
       to the glove of the outfielder with such regret,
 
I would have kept going if they hadn’t pulled me back