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November, 1926
FIRE
Page Nineteen
The Death Bed
All the time they were praying
He watched the shadow of a tree
Flicker on the wall.
There is no need of prayer.
He said,
No need at all.
The kin-folk thought it strange
That he should ask them from a dying bed.
But they left all in a row
And it seemed to ease him
To see them go.
There were some who kept on praying
In a room across the hall
And some who listened to the breeze
That made the shadows waver
On the wall.
He tried his nerve
On a song he knew
And made an empty note
That might have come,
From a bird's harsh throat.
And all the time it worried him
That they were in there praying
And all the time he wondered
What it was they could be saying.
