A forest of memories – NaPoWriMo Day9

Driving a new route to visit our college girl took us through beautiful areas of hills and swales, streams, and dense stands of barren trees. That reminded me of a January drive through Virginia when we were moving north from Alabama to a new home near Washington, D.C. Looking out the car window, I felt the land was haunted by ghosts of Civil War soldiers. This year marks the 150th anniversary of the start of the Civil War. Have you ever felt the ghosts of history?

The wild hills of Virginia
Hold thick stands of forest
and dip into mossy swales
hiding crooked little streams.
The land seems to whisper and cry
The stories of long ago,
When young men hid
Among spindle-thin trees
That also offered shelter to the enemy –
Young men just like them
But with different ideals.
The trees now hide memories of the dead,
But if you listen,
You can hear the voices,
“Don’t forget.”


About moonbridgebooks

Co-author of Cherry Blossoms in Twilight, a WWII Japan memoir of her mother's childhood; author of Poems That Come to Mind, for caregivers of dementia patients; Co-author/Editor of Battlefield Doc, a medic's memoir of combat duty during the Korean War; life writing enthusiast; loves history and culture (especially Japan), poetry, and cats
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1 Response to A forest of memories – NaPoWriMo Day9

  1. Linda says:

    I can relate to your thoughts. My husband was a history major, and in the past three years he's been concentrating on studying individual Civil War battles. Because we moved to a state where such battles occurred, we have traveled to a number of those battlefields. The museums at those places have excellent displays, books, and videos explaining what happened in that region. It's a wonderful way to learn our nation's history.However, like you, I feel a sickness in my heart. I walk the grounds and wonder how much blood seeped down into the soil. I try to picture individual families and their stories. Like you said, we need to remember. The museums help us to do that.Have a nice day.Linda

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