Hercules & Apollo

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The farmers didn’t plant wheat where I grew up. There were fields and pastures across the fence where Moses, the sheep farmer had his property. He would plant corn or alfalfa alternative years. One year he grew something grassy and when he drove a tractor and his son worked on the back of the bailer picking up the bails and tossing them onto the flat bed with practiced precision, I couldn’t help peeking through the hedgerow and watch his son Jeff do his work. Jeans, boots, and shirtless, glistening and full of young masculine energy.

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This is how I imagine I am.