For Neville Cunningham
You walk, you walk,
You turn a corner and walk some more
The sun might be there
Some cloud also welcome
But you are always invited
Into the house of the beekeeper.
You will know it when you arrive
Usually an afternoon of daylight
Will warm those neighbourhood bricks
You will feel it on your right cheek!
You鈥檒l know you鈥檝e arrived:
A poster of Ned Kelly hangs in his window
The front door is always open when he鈥檚 in
And you can go in once you tap on the screen door.
He鈥檒l be reading a book on his thin mattress
Or frying up some fish in his kitchen
Always surrounded by books and thoughts
And when there鈥檚 time
There鈥檚 debate and discussion in聽 the Beehive:
History, Art, Politics.
Other people walk in
They鈥檙e begging to interview for a folk music rag鈥
He takes me out to his hives
And checks his babies
One catches in my hair,
Buzzing like crazy
鈥業t鈥檚 the detergent!鈥
He says - detecting a change
鈥榃e better go back in!鈥
We sit over tea and honey
With squinty eyes, he looks at me inquisitively,
鈥楾he Russians were great beekeepers鈥
[Neville Cunnigham was a veteran activist and socialist based in Newcastle who died in October last year. He was also a beekeeper and writer, whose home was a frequent meeting place for activists known as 鈥渢he Beehive鈥. Brad Evans is the former editor of Red Lamp.]