HomeSouthern VoiceWal-Mart Bags

Wal-Mart Bags

by Deborah R. Majors

I saw,
pushed by a semi’s draft,
Florida’s snow
float from heaven
to Pine
to grass
then tumbleweed
along the right of way
journeying to somewhere else—
anywhere else—
until captured by thorny-fingered vines
or pinecones
or barbed wire
or a smirking sign claiming
a “$500.00 fine” before saluting
every passerby
along the two laned state highway,
man’s territory, scented and marked
with musky-yellow double stripes.

I saw
a crow enter a handle-lipped plastic-white womb
then was birthed
with a cupcake creamed beak, a Hostess gift.

I saw,
tied with bungee cords
and pink ribbon to a Rural Route mailbox,
poor man’s balloons
stuffed with pine straw and oak leaves
flagging the party’s location.

I saw,
on the Mid-Bay Bridge,
wind-filled blindness dive-bomb
a teenage Yamaha rider.

I saw
crunchy wads
recycled at the health food store
by a skinny old hippie—
“Turn them inside out at least;
hide the name that’s not yours.”

“Can’t do that,” he whispered, de-wrinkling
ink with colloidal silver,
goat’s milk soap, and Vitamin C,
“Best to show the nature of the beast.”

Residing on 30 country acres in the Florida Panhandle, Deborah R. Majors is a wife and mother of two grown sons, an associate pastor and a member of the Panhandle Poets Society. She has had poems and short stories published in Blackwater Review, Barefoot Review, Time of Singing, Haggard and Halloo Publications, Broken Publications’ anthology Soul Vomit: Beating Domestic Violence, and The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature. This poem was first published in Blackwater Review in 2007.

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6 COMMENTS
  • Katie Rendon Kahn / April 7, 2013

    Deborah Majors knows how to draw her readers in. This wonderful piece has such insightful and well described images. I love the description of poor man’s balloons, Florida’s snow, and the old hippie. I can’t wait to read more!

  • Jocelyn G. Donahoo / April 9, 2013

    Deborah did what she does best: alliteration, assonance, personification, metaphors, and imagery that makes one see, feel, taste, smell,and hear. A couple of my favorites:
    “wind-filled blindness dive-bomb,” “journeying to somewhere else—
    anywhere else—
    until captured by thorny-fingered vines
    or pinecones
    or barbed wire”

    Deb, the poet!

  • Terry Minchow-Proffitt / April 10, 2013

    Deborah, great job here! I now have a whole new sense, thanks to you, of these obnoxious bags. They’re a pain, for sure, but they also have a kind of life and, well, beauty, even, at times, bearing their own offerings. I love the “crow” stanza. Thank you.

  • Esther / April 11, 2013

    I tried to pick a favorite line or stanza, but I like every bit of this poem. I will still see Wal-Mart bags as eyesores, but this poem reminds me there is intrinsic beauty in all things.

  • Jonathan Aspinwall / April 12, 2013

    A wonderful poem with vivid imagery. I can put myself in the passengers seat and ride along with the poet in her illustrations. I love the line about Florida snow and about “journeying somewhere else- anywhere else”. Great job!

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