Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 7 · column 3 of 3 · from the scan, no model involved
The Rappahannock River
By Samantha Jo Smith I sit on a river rock looking out at the sunset Letting a river mist gently touch my face It brisks my cheek like a cold sorrow as if To feel sad for the day ending the Intense wind howls a sad sorrow song through the Gentle apple blossomed trees as If it barely cares where it sings its sorrow song Sounding like the sadness of the lone Intense, heart-piercing melody of a soft cello solo. I feel as if to cry at this mournful isolated music. Now I hear the call of a sad wood thrush, next I hear a bubbling intense river. The Rappahannock. The sun is setting freely. Just as you or I would when it’s time for bed. Now I hear the hoo hoo of a sweet snowy owl. All of the sorrowy isolated songs of a pale faced ghost who has lost its way to the other world I relate to nature as each thing as delicate as a small life even plants I think everything in nature can never be replaced. Replanted, maybe, but it can never be replaced. That is just how I feel everytime the sun sets on an interesting place like... The Rappahannock River.
Samantha Jo Smith, a resident of Prince William County, has ancestors from Amissville and the town of Washington.
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