This is my friend Les. Les is the ear of a saint. Les is more. Two summers ago he asked Tracy and I to take his picture in the yard. It was bright and blue and green. The grass was long. This is my friend Les who boils the kettle and pours out tea. He came to see me even in my attic and showed me how to make notes with strings. He laughed and asked me why we didn’t have the lessons before his fingers went their own way and he taught me anyway. This is Les. The one eye blinded saw him through the veil.