The rooster crows to awaken those who slumber
or to make the rest of us take note,
but at this spot, no one will rise from his call.
How long has he been practicing this futile routine?
Still, he ascends to the roof of a hut and crows once more
while a circling hen below thinks him a fool for trying to rouse the dead.
Corporals Mumford and Spence from World War I
are joined by vets from the Second, Korea, and Nam.
All rest here and none will stand at attention.
Lucy and Malcolm were greeted at the pearlies in the fifties,
and now, a shiny white railing, two chairs and the Virgin await guests.
I wonder how often their children, now old too, came around.
I sigh at the spot where Lisa and Casey are identified with Gone to be an Angel.
I say a prayer for friends whose babes also earned their wings early
and for another whose teen daughter departed by choice.
A new, sparkly section of recent arrivals shows evidence of visitors.
Balloons, flags, figurines, small vases with flowers…
But the residents will not react to the sweet gestures.
The rooster crows a third time, but I do not see him.
Did he slip through the black steel-barred fence to alert others?
Some who’ll deny like Peter and others who might awaken.
I must also be on my way to start anew or muddle through.
Will I rise and ramble or wait for a fourth squawk?
Adela M. Brito was raised in Miami, spent sixteen years in NYC, and now resides in Nashville, where she teaches composition. She holds an MFA in Fiction from the University of Memphis and is a professional editor of fiction and memoir. Her work has appeared in Hieroglyph, StoryBoard Memphis, Moko Magazine, and The Acentos Review.