The Richest Man
Wet bees do bee magic
in the dark green jungle of Puna
and my friend John,
who lives alone except for
the tropical birds he rescues
the sheep who think heʻs their father
the brindle dogs with joy in their eyes
and the kittens
keeps an eye on the white cubes
of beehives and when the combs
are fat and runny he helps harvest
what was once the sweetness
of a flower in the sun
helps scoop the amber
bee larder into one quart jars
and if you visit him so deep there
at the end of the road
on the side of the island where
most people still donʻt go
John, who learned to not want
what the land couldnʻt give
will hand you a jar
and with the smile of a king
send you off like a queen bee
yourself.
