Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

[inscription reads] " sailed close above. Its nearness made me feel as tho (sic) I had be touched with the invisible. / A whitish cloud rolling in bounding fashion along the top of the hill. Writhing shadows falling in a rippling cat-tail Marsh, with reeks with blackbird. / As sitting here - two small flocks of blackbirds drop over the cringing hill in chaff-blown flight, & skimming over the blady swamp join their fellows. Another small flock follows. Sounds like a whip lashing the air. "