Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

[inscription reads] " To a crippled butterfly - in coming forth, from its case of silken iron, the wings refuse to unfold. / Heard of mushrooms coming up thru (sic) cement walks, Poets unually (sic) must do the same. When one in Chicago came up, people came by hundreds to see it. So also do they come to a poet, who has pushed upward thru (sic) the hard cement of every day existence & / Noonwards - loose clouds strong wind. / P.M. To Post’s & Meadows to sketch. Cold windy afternoon. Windy day clouds skidding past. "