by Jerrice J. Baptiste
Le Nègre Marron
*
A long-simmering crisis over Haiti’s ability to govern itself, particularly after a series of natural disasters and an increasingly dire humanitarian emergency, has come to a head in the Caribbean nation, as its de facto president remains stranded in Puerto Rico and its people starve and live in fear of rampant violence. —NBC News, March 15, 2024
*
I long for sanctuaries of your forests. Chirping bird—Hispaniolan Trogon. Enduring name of long ago La Perle des Antilles Shimmering light. I long for your full peasant skirts flowing with countryside breeze, where bare feet imprint sand. I long to be eating sizzling Fritaille griot, fried plantains, and pikliz of red & yellow hot bonnet peppers dancing in my belly. I long for Krik-Krak from uncles. Stories told in backyards. Laughter of familiar voices greeting moonlight. I long to bathe your infants in tranquil turquoise sea. Dress your daughters in white organza fabric. I long for your Taino fathers wearing red & indigo flags during carnival or Rara dancing to Djembe rhythm. I long for your Taino mothers Poto-Mitan, ivory backbone of our homes. Selling clusters of quenepe at street market. I long for your white conch shell blown by bronze lips breaking chains. Le Nègre Marron.
*
Jerrice J. Baptiste is an author of eight books and a poet in residence at the Prattsville Art Center & Residency in NY. She is extensively published in journals and magazines such as Artemis Journal, The Yale Review, Mantis, Eco Theo Review, The Caribbean Writer, and many others. Jerrice has been nominated as Best of The Net by Blue Stem. She has been facilitating poetry workshops for eighteen years.
Like