jack of spades

Poem by 

Andrew Mitchell.


I am the Jack of Spades, 

son of a king. 

My whole life 

is spent grave digging. 


It’s a calling, 

from father to son. 

Absurd as it sounds, 

It’s a life most profound. 


Digging deeper, 

exposing the past. 

Botanist, Geologist , 

amateur Archaeologist. 


In a day or two, 

everything will be replaced. 

In a different order, 

as someones resting place. 


As they look up,

often for the first time.

All will be in order, 

as it is forseen.