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!

[!-- H2 anchor --]

Edwin Arlington Robinson

(He mutters wearily in an undertone.)