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.