Fri., 11 Morning devotions. A beautiful day. Can 6 jars of chopped pears. Type a little. Write a birthday letter to Ashton. Have a ride over the beautiful winding drive along New Haven River to the Mills & across Bristol flats. Glimpse Hattie’s house in the distance. Letter from Anna. Pick up a basket of pears. The German “Kyanize” picks the Sheldon pears after hours. Have a sonnet in the Rutland Herald, “Nightfall.”
Here’s the poem, later published in “Homeland in the North”
The sun has dropped from sight
Behind the sheltering hill,
And the shadowy spaces fill
In the slowly fading light
As the day is taking flight . . .
Quietly fading . . . softly still
(Save the chirp of a cricket shrill)
To the purple dusk of night.
A shade in the loneliness stark
I stand on the whispering shore;
The cedars behind me dark,
As oft I’ve stood before,
And thru the silence I hark
To the dip of a muffled oar.