City Boy, Mixed Meter Sonnet - (An Oxymoron?) Options

[Larry]

City Boy

Bouncing like an underinflated ball,
I sat on the old Farmall tractor seat
towing a bush hog through grass that’s too tall
for push or riding mowers to compete.

Leaving rows that could be turned into hay
if one were to possess a good baler,
which I don’t; I made use of them all day
for guidance like I was a poor sailor

lost at sea. Getting sweaty and too hot
to continue; my inexperience
at any farm work showed that I was not
the person for that job and ever since,

I’ll let Mother Nature take her own course
while I watch grasses grow without remorse.