When he climbs in the Phoenix
Mountain Preserve and gets high

enough, his “eye can go so far
away from the body.” He got that

from a poet who grew up in big
sky country of southern New

Mexico, but then he thinks about
shuffling in the sand along the

shore of Lake Michigan and realizes
that his “eye can go so far away

from the body” there, too. He just
drove through Denver during rush

hour and couldn’t take his eye
off the road or the cars to the

left of him and trucks to the right
and the SUV he sees in the rear

view mirror roaring up his bumper
even though he is in the far right

lane. He knows he needs to be
able to stop on a dime and he

thinks about people who do that
driving all the time. Their eyes

never go away from the body and
maybe that’s what is wrong, in part,

today. We certainly are beside our-
selves but our eyes never go away

from the body so how, oh how, can
we possibly see forever?