[epigone]

Hi All,
It's been forever since I've been on this forum. I wonder if any old timers can help me remember a poem. I love this poem. It's stuck with me. I don't know that it's ever been published, and I don't know the author or the title, but I would call it Widow's Walk and maybe that's right. I've forgotten a line, so I hope someone can provide it:

Here's what I remember

They say that it is meet
To write of what we know
And so, in Summer, wheat
And so, in Winter, snow.

But in field-clearing time in Spring [this line is wrong, but that's the gist]
And when clouds come in the Fall,
She twists a right-hand ring
When no words come at all.

Help if you can.
Much appreciated