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.”
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