Tom MerrittAt first I suspected something—She acted so calm and absent-minded.And one day I heard the back door shutAs I entered the front, and I saw him slinkBack of the smokehouse into the lotAnd run across the field.And I meant to kill him on sight.But that day, walking near Fourth BridgeWithout a stick or a stone at hand,All of a sudden I saw him standingScared to death, holding his rabbits,And all I could say was, “Don’t, Don’t, Don’t,”As he aimed and fired at my heart.
At first I suspected something—She acted so calm and absent-minded.And one day I heard the back door shutAs I entered the front, and I saw him slinkBack of the smokehouse into the lotAnd run across the field.And I meant to kill him on sight.But that day, walking near Fourth BridgeWithout a stick or a stone at hand,All of a sudden I saw him standingScared to death, holding his rabbits,And all I could say was, “Don’t, Don’t, Don’t,”As he aimed and fired at my heart.