Not A Hill Of Beans

Many years ago I was taught a poem by my mentor and friend, Todd VanBeck. It is a poem that shares the the experience of the life’s work I have chosen and toiled at.

This afternoon I was reminded of the “tangled schemes of human life” as I learned of the death of someone  our family has known, trusted and admired for many years.

Being around death on a daily basis for over 40 years doesn’t matter a hill of beans when it is someone you know.

Who though, is better than the poet to share matters of the heart?


The Undertaker

The midnight hour, the darkest hour
That human grief may know
Sends forth its hurried summons
And asks me to come…I go

I know not where the blow may fall
I know not for whom the bell may toll
I only know that I must go
In answer to their call

Perhaps a friend, perhaps unknown
It will be fate that turns that wheel
The tangled schemes of human life
Wind slowly on the reel

And I, I’m the undertaker
Cold blooded you’ll hear some say
Trained to the shock and chill of death
With a heart that’s cold and gray

Trained, is that what they call it?
How little they know the rest
I’m human and well understand the sorrow
That throbs in the aching breast

About Ray V.

Living between Aiken & Charleston,, South Carolina, USA, I like to share what I am looking at, thinking about or listening to. I refer to this as the view out my window. Thanks for stopping by.
This entry was posted in 2021, 25 blogs, The Undertaker and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Not A Hill Of Beans

  1. I’m sorry for your loss Ray.


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