Decades à Rose
Quivering hands release
rose petal beads
from the deepest pocket
of an abandoned purse.
She traces the Sign:
forehead, heart,
left shoulder, right shoulder;
then gently touches the Crucifix
to her trembling lips.
Clutching each bead, lips pursed,
she whispers the prayers.
Words trickling off her tongue
mingle with questions:
Why? How? Where? When?
Perspiration
awakens the rose scent
by fingers slipping their way
around the chain to the final bead.
Then the one entitled,
Prayer after... then Memorare.
She recalls most of that prayer.
"Thank you, Jesus, for listening.
Amen."
© Jeanne I. Lakatos
