Portfolio > Verse to Vision: Recent Oils/Poems

green thin girl, car and graves
Little Sister
oil on panel
12 x 12

Winter for Skylark and Little Sister
- by Maj Ragain
Companion poem for Little Sister, oil on panel, 12 x 12”, 2016

My wings are gone.
Blue 72 Buick Skylark
won’t fly me out of here.
Skylark laid its transmission
onto the frozen driveway today,
dying in a widening dark ruby
pool of ATF fluid.
Thirty nine dollars got
Skylark dragged away.

A woman buys me whiskey
and flannel lined pants
to keep my bones warm.
Her breath is acetylene.
It is still winter.

At the old Shields cemetery,
southeast of Olney,
A flowering patch of Dragon’s Blood
blankets the grave of a child,
every spring.

I saw this child once,
When I was six, as I was walking
home from Shields school,
past the cemetery.
She stood by the iron gate,
naked, thin as willow,
The color of lime water.
She covered her small breasts
with her hands.
She pleaded for something I couldn’t hear.

This is the voice
I have been listening for, all these years.
It is the voice this poem wants to speak with.
How to make a mouth under the Dragon’s Blood.

Maj Ragain. Burley One Dark Sucker Fired: Collected Poems. Working Lives Series, Bottom Dog Press. Huron, OH, 1998, p.48