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Funeral in February

The demise of a curmudgen

By Joe YoungPublished 8 months ago 1 min read
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Photo by Karl Hedin on Unsplash

Old Seymour died in winter

With the ground as hard as hobs

And the men who dig and inter

Cursed their wretched jobs

Two such in heavy workboots

Lay down their spade and spit

Soles were scraped on tree roots

And cigarettes were lit

Toward this smoking session

Under heavy, leaden skies

There came the grim procession

All heads bowed, some dabbing eyes

To the tune of coughs and sneezing

They marched slowly to the grave

A young boy said I’m freezing

And his mother said behave!

Among the yews and gravestones

They gathered in the mist

And, as the priest blessed Seymour’s bones,

The mourners reminisced

Thoughts turned towards his illness

Bravely borne without a word

Then in the eerie stillness

A single voice was heard

From the group of perished mourners

It said come on, Father, please

Can’t you cut some corners,

Or are we all to freeze?

The priest said, sagely nodding

I’ll keep it brief, my dear,

For I know where this sod’s heading

And it’s warmer there than here

Notes

I wrote this piece many years ago, to demonstrate how when someone dies, we tend to remember them fondly and gloss over any faults they may have had. So it was as the mourners reminiesced — until the priest dropped a truth bomb.

And cigarettes were lit

I used the passive voice with abandon back then.

Hard as hobs,

This is a shortened version of the saying as hard as the hobs of Hell. However, that seems to be a misquote of the saying as hot as the hobs of Hell. Either way, as hard as hobs is in common use in these parts, as in “The sandwiches were nice, but the scones were as hard as hobs,”

Of course, it may also mean as hard as the hobs on the sole of a hobnailed boot.

Lay down their spade and spit

In this case, the word spit refers to a type of spade with a long narrow blade, used for digging in clay-heavy earth.

I know where this sod’s heading

A sod is definitively a clod of earth, but it is in common use as a mild expletive to mean a dislikable person. It’s a degree or two less offensive than bastard.

humor
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About the Creator

Joe Young

Blogger and freelance writer from the north-east coast of England

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  • Alex H Mittelman 8 months ago

    Great poem!

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