Miles, how long had you lived
in the woods? It seems like
forever, dear Harris. These city lights
outdo the meteor showers that rained
towards my heather bed on summer
nights while bullfrogs joked about

my nakedness. I’d read these names
in tired text by the flickering light
of log-fires, but this is something else!
And oh, how I was mislead
by the books I read; there he is, again,
in the flesh: Elvis! Miles, oh, never mind.