DEAR GOD,

Harpo no better at fighting his daddy back than me. Every day his daddy git up, sit on the porch, look out at nothing.
Sometime look at the trees out front the house. Look at a butterfly if it light on the rail. Drink a little water in the day. A
little wine in the evening. But mostly never move.
Harpo complain bout all the plowing he have to do.
His daddy say, You gonna do it.
Harpo nearly big as his daddy. He strong in body but weak in will. He scared.
Me and him out in the field all day. Us sweat, chopping and plowing. I’m roasted coffee bean color now. He black as the
inside of a chimney. His eyes be sad and thoughtful. His face begin to look like a woman face.
Why you don’t work no more? he ast his daddy.
No reason for me to. His daddy say. You here, aint you? He say this nasty. Harpos feeling be hurt.
Plus, he still in love.