Tree with a Bird in it — Imri Swazey by Edgar Lee Masters

IMRI SWAZEY

I was a shock-headed boy bringing in the laundry;

Why did I try for that damn bird, anyway?

I suppose I had been in the habit of aiming for the pears.

But I chucked a stone, anyhow, And it ricocheted and hit my head, And as it hadn't any brains inside the stone busted it And there I was, dead.

And dead with me were all the improper things I'd got out of the servants about their employers Bringing in the laundry;

But the grackle sings on.

Sing forever, O grackle!

I died, knowing lots of things _you_ don't know!

_Edwin Arlington Robinson_ (He mutters wearily in an undertone.

)