Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

arc-light. I have memories of their creaking on windy winter night nights when the weather was hovering between thaw & cold - of the light dancing on the walls, or the wild tree shadows pacing rest­lessly back & forth on window curtains, or of summers night of the rings on the grounding, circling far out into the dim shadows like rings from a stone thrown in a pool of water; constantly running back + forth over the ground, of clouds of insects flying around of momentary flashes of light on bat’s wings.