i.m. N. D. R.
Valley twilight silence
shattered by Church bell.
Father asks why.
Sons, spades in hand, at cemetery gate
that screeches in protest.
They dig up sods of earth,
jump into deepening chasm,
precede their cousin’s casket.
“Father in shock, very fond of Philip,
up when cock crows to join cortege tomorrow.”
Brothers light kandili on their family grave,
observe that “longevity blesses us.”
Cock crows persistently, wreathes of mortality droop,
Church bell stalls, incense smokes angrily,
another dawn funeral tomorrow.
Loula S. Rodopoulos