Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

a pole whose top, if it has any, is so high in the blue that we will never reach it, lest we like the vine become stunted at the last.(HT)The sun is peculiarly golden just at sunset. The level rays strike the sidewalk and turns it to a sheet of gold, they strike our concrete walk in such a manner as only to light up the minute crystals in it, that sparkle.(HT)Went out about ten o’clock to view the night. The air is wonderfully clear as is shown by the myriads of stars visible tonight, whose