The Norwegian Man Poem by Juan Olivarez

A Norwegian man bought the place next door.
And brought some bee hives on his big old Ford.
Painted the outsides, and cleaned all the floors,
and started building his honey bee horde.

There was a big tank, on the back of his truck,
with water and sugar for the honey bees.
And wrapped in armor, and with some luck,
no stings resulted, I did it with ease.

He set hives in the orchards, some far away,
and we' drive for hours to get to the hives.
It was'nt work, felt more like play,
being out in the wild I felt so alive.

He dug a water well, deep in the ground,
and brought up salt water, not at all sweet.
But it was good shower water, so far from town,
and that in itself was a marvelous feat.

He started cutting, the brush round the place,
piled it up high, and set it to burn.
We roasted some hotdogs, and I stuffed my face,
those were the good days, for which I yearn.

Then his nephew took a drive, to the grocery store,
and brought back some cold Budweiser beer.
Jon said just one, I won't let you have more,
cause your dad might get mad. Do I make myself clear.

I worked for Jon Lauritsen, on and off for years,
extracting honey, and feeding his bees.
After school, and on week ends, I was always near,
taking care of his hives, and free as a breeze.

5/23/10 29 palms ca.