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Thoughts on flying
over Washington, Va.
Editor’s note: Sharon Paulson wrote the following poem after flying over Washington, Va. in October. She dedicated it to her husband’s grandmother, Mayes Campbell, who lived for many years in Washington with her husband, Ciirtis, at “Twinland,” now the home of Dr. and Mrs. Robert Young. Mrs. Campbell, now 98, lives with family in Newport News. On Thanksgiving, a time when we celebrate our blessings and gather with our families, her poem seemed an appropriate one for the holiday.
Qliding over the Virginia mountains We Cooldown to see ‘Rotting hitts draped with quilts of yellow, purple and hetic red. pestled in the hitts — a town — smatt, welcoming, whimsical. Church spires soaring heavenward as if to greet us. Qreen roofs zvith chimneys curling feathery wisps of smoRe. Orchards etched With trees liRe so many soldiers in a row. A cemetery — a crimson dogwood— 9{ature’s finest monuments to a life well spent. Memories of summers past. A moment frozen in time to carry with us always.
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