Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

July 27

The season nears August – cicadas drone in the marshy heat of midday and at night the katydids are commencing—
The great gray sky of midsummer south-east dusk is reflected in the sullen creek, on whose banks stand black tree phantoms—
In the west the first moon sliver sinks in the heavy obscuring mists of the city—
To the southeast the sullen void of space to the northwest the turgid heat-hazed city.
Automobiles like gigantic fastidious insects buzz back and forth over the asphalt still soft & hot from the day’s heat—
Upstairs the children are quiet in their beds – the farm drones monotonously—
The great gray sky of midsummer dusk encompasses all.
Yesterday and today the first great cloud phalanxes of (see next page for continuation)