Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

orange red & yellow; but the most of them are wierd variations that no artist ever dreamed of. They are all opaque: whence comes the whiteness which is mixed with them? Is it the white mist of day time ascending to the sky?(HT)Barnswallow circles. I am solicitous lest they become en-tangled in those varicoled threads in the sky.(HT)The sound of a train is pregnant with much meaning.(HT)A cicada singing.A long streak of smoke, from some train, extends in a long line, across the west-