my friend reminded me today of barefoot roy, great-uncle roy, who rode the baler chute all day, and twisted wires like christmas toys, before grass string & knotters ruled, then big bales bucked with tractor forks and kids were told to stay in school, his feet resembling bottle corks, the only man i ever knew could walk a stubblefield full speed, through cockleburrs & startled snakes, without the notion or the need for brogans where the hay's been raked; he picked on her, he picked on me, and prayed to god to let him be.