This is my second attempt at a narrative poem this month. Honestly, I like “Orphaned Rosary” better than “The Violence of a Kiss.” Hopefully, that means I’m getting at least a little better at writing these. I’m still not satisfied with the way it came out, but I’ve done the best I can right now.

Title

“Orphaned Rosary”

Synopsis

While dealing with the loss of her mother, Veronica stumbles upon a familiar rosary. She tries to avoid it, but the rosary is persistent.

Veronica shatters the porcelain teapot

her mother left for her. It’s far

from the only thing her mother left behind.

“You’ll always have me. I will never leave you.”

Veronica scoffs at the memory.

The porcelain shards of her mother

sail into the trash can.

She left Veronica in the hands of God,

which is just a fancy way of saying she’s now an orphan.

If “God” really existed, her mom would be here.

She prayed herself to sleep every night

her mother was in the ICU.

Nothing ever changed.

Not even God cares about her.

Veronica grabs her worn duffel bag

and shuffles out of her apartment.

In the hall, she slips on rolling beads.

A sapphire rosary sinks into the carpet.

She stoops and collects the offending object.

“No way,” she whispers to herself,

with tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

The beads crumble in her fist,

creating indents in her palm.

“Is this some sort of joke?’

She hurls it at the wall, shoulders shaking

as she stomps toward her car.

Her stomach roils and bile

rises to her throat.

It’s just a piece of jewelry.

It can’t hurt me.

Huffing, she slams her car door shut.

A hollow rattle shakes the silence,

and St. Veronica stares back at her,

holding an image of Jesus’s face.

The pendant resembles a sacred painting,

nestled there between sapphire beads.

“No, it can’t be—I thought she…”

Veronica unwraps the rosary

from her rear-view mirror.

The cobalt orbs start to burn her skin.

Her head swivels left and right,

searching for an answer.

She opens the door and darts over

to a small car and coils the cursed beads

around the rear windshield wiper.

Her lungs expand and she returns to her car.

The engine roars and she spots

a group of friends laughing and jostling each other.

Enjoy it while you can, you’ll be alone before you know it.

She sighs heavily and backs out of the parking lot,

heading toward the tennis club.

She’s dying to dedicate her mind to tennis.

Only tennis.

While stopped at a red light,

she sees a woman

smiling down at a little girl.

Veronica tears her eyes away

once the child is scooped up into a hug.

Nausea presses down on her as she drives on.

When she turns down South Street,

her vision is blurred by blue.

She squints through the refracted light,

but is blinded by the stained-glass ocean

before her. She has no choice but to pull over.

The light summons her out of the car

and she is met with a shimmering glimmer

of sapphire, hanging from an old oak tree.

Sunlight reflects off the beads,

swirling the hues of blue in a familiar pattern.

Her breath hitches, while her feet move of their own accord.

As she nears the base of the thick trunk,

she gleams a glance of the world behind it.

Her heart fumbles its rhythm.

I can’t believe it.

She’s never been to this dam without her mother

and she’s only here because of the rosary.

My mother’s rosary.

St. Veronica was her favorite

and the blue beads…God,

she loved how they sparkled.

The glittering blue always reminded them

of the lake below—the special place

reserved just for the two of them.

“Mom?”

Her fingers caress the smooth

warm beads as she lifts up the rosary. 

She shivers while a light breeze

clears away the leaves at her feet.

“I AM HERE” is etched into the dirt

where the leaves once were.

Her knees hit the ground. Dark patches

appear over the words in small

uniform drops, accompanied by her sniffling.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out.

Her head tilts toward the sky.

She squeezes her eyes shut and the hot streams

of tears run down her cheeks.

Her smile is wobbly and tastes like salt.

“Thank you.”

The words flow from within

and slip past the barrier of her lips.

Warmth blankets her body

as the blue beads rise and fall against her chest—

echoing every breath that she takes.

THE END

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I hope you enjoyed the story! Thank you for taking the time to read it! Please let me know what you thought about it. Feedback is always appreciated.

Check out “The Violence of a Kiss” (my previous blog post) by clicking the link under the email list sign up form!

Also, if you’re interested in checking out my debut poetry collection Juniper, you can find it here.