A proud member of the subspecies Homo sapiens bicolor.
Distinguished by the firm tan lines at my wrists, arms, and neck.
I am covered from head to toe in dirt and sap.
Because I am a trail farmer.
It will be a bumper crop this year.
The tread stretches out before me,
Snaking away as a tribute to the local rattlers.
The rock walls tower over me.
They were knee-high by the Fourth of July.
So we knew it would be a good year.
The second wave of migrant workers are here.
They bring their own personality to the work.
A cornucopia of Brits, Kiwis, South Africans, and Americans.
They toil until their backs ache and their fingers blister.
And then they work a while longer.
I am a trail farmer.
I hook my thumbs on my overalls.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
love! this! more! please!
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