Oles’ White Lutefisk
And The Legend of the Singing Coyotes
A long, long time ago, before the Hudson Bay trappers explored Minnesota’s vast prairie and timber, before all the beaver were driven from the cool valley streams, Minnesota was inhabited by the Dakota Sioux, the Ojibwa, and the Winnebago. For as far as the eagle can see, the grasslands and forest spread across the prairie, providing sustenance for all manner of living creatures. The drums, flutes, and rhythmic songs of the ancient tribes echoed in the evening skies, comforting all that wandered through the land, eating and drinking only what was needed from the land of their fathers and their father’s fathers.
Into this paradise walked Ole with his cow and wooden cart, squeaking and squawking, wandering about. Past deer trails and river beds, he sang as he strolled, of his memories, his daydreams, his life on this road.
Ya sure, you betcha
I’ve come a long, long way
Cross the sea I sailed…
Uff-da Norway’s so far, far away!Sweet land of brown bread
Where lutefisk’s served
A gift for the senses
Homes’ aroma preservedHere the rivers are deep
The valley’s so wide
Don’tcha know day after day
My song is my guideYa sure, you betcha
I’ve come a long, long way
Cross the sea I sailed…
Uff-da Norway’s so far, far away!
To be continued…
©2021 cj holm
PrairieChat 
My husband’s family emigrated from Norway – this poem suits him.