Bruce Shanks (1908-1980)

[inscription reads] " thrummed overhead in swift rollicking flight. Two flocks there were, - the morning was now indelibly stamped on my memory. / Cries and calls of robins on all sides; chattering of sparrows. It was a perfect frosty March morning. / To Work: Sky a clear frosty blue; the sun striking the frost-roughened roofs, turned them to blinding glass. / Air spoke-hazed eastward. / Noon - sky a most wonderful pure blue. Coolth (sic) on the air. / October - thinned poplar trees, looking like great "