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Rosary in Hands: creative nonfiction by Jerrice J. Baptiste

  • Apr 29
  • 2 min read
Painting: bright pink, purple, and coral flowers fill the frame, image by DWilliam, on Pixabay, modified
Painting: bright pink, purple, and coral flowers fill the frame, image by DWilliam, on Pixabay, modified




















Rosary in Hands 

 

Godmother Rosette wears it well, the scent of joy masquerading as wild rose.  

She sits in her wicker rocking chair, the white paint peeling off in corners  

of the wood where the squeak is heard. She has rocked for decades casually  

with a rosary in hand, sitting in sunlight, welcoming the breeze. Her sun hat  

sits at reach. Her hair, the shimmer of supple silver, and her freckled face  

warmed, inhaling sun rays. Under her breath, she rolls a prayer for someone  

she knows in suffering. 

 

Dusk arrives in a medley of colors pirouetting, mauve, azalea pink, violet 

clouds—a slow shifting around the sun descending behind sap-green colored 

mountains. Abandoning her rocking chair until the next day, godmother sets up  

her bird bath when fireflies light up outside her window. She wipes away the sun’s 

sweat with a hand towel. And dries with a bath towel, then layer after layer of  

rose-scented lotion applied to her skin for sweetest dreams. A modest white silk 

sleeping gown at ankle’s length floats above her cement floor. Knees bend in  

front of her bed, the last prayer of the day is mumbled. She sprays rose water  

onto her pillow, closes her eyes, hands of the divine tuck her in. 

 

The roosters wake her up, and she kneels in gratitude for a night well slept.  

After her shower, a generous amount of scented rose powder dresses her  

armpits, her chest below her collar bones, under her breasts she lifts with gentle  

hands. Godmother greets the morning sun with a hot cup of ginger tea, savors  

the taste of roots waking her lips. Takes her seat on the wicker rocking chair  

with rosary in hands, facing sun rising east. ~ 



(Note: in this context, a "bird bath" refers to washing oneself with a small towel.)






Jerrice J. Baptiste, born in Haiti, is a well published author, poet, and visual artist. She is the author of Wintry Mix and Coral in the Diaspora (Abode Press, 2024). Her poetry is published and/or forthcoming in Spirit Fire Review;

Synchronized Chaos; Mom Egg Review; The Banyan Review; The Mackinaw Review; The Yale Review; Pensive: A Global Journal of Spirituality & The Arts; The Dewdrop; Shambhala Times; Artemis Journal, Kosmos Journal;

The Caribbean Writer and others. Jerrice is a multiple-times Pushcart Prize nominee and a Best of the Net nominee.

Her poetry and collaborative songwriting are featured

on the Grammy award-nominated album “Many Hands: Family Music in Haiti.”








(April 2026 issue)



 
 
 

1 Comment


It takes tremendous discipline to write with this level of concentration and this beautifully, resisting the temptation to embellish. Beautiful and pure.

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