Wright (who by all accounts was a solitary, cold man) her singing ceased -- apparently because he did not like it and did not allow it. This is akin to stifling the singing of a bird -- who could do it? Nonetheless, Mrs. Wright's singing was suppressed. Still, her sewing continued -- careful and conscientious. But if she could not sing, perhaps she could have a bird that could. What the women discover, however, is that apparently the bird that Mrs. Wright purchased to keep her company and to provide some element of warmth in the house had its neck broken by the husband. Here was a symbolic action: the tyrant despising nature, attempting to control it to his own liking, and wringing its neck when it refused to conform to his own tastes. What Mr. Wright did to the bird, was like what Mr. Wright did to the soul of his wife: he choked it.

From Mrs. Peters we learn that as a girl she had watched her kitten be cruelly decapitated by a boy with a hatchet and that if there had been no one around to stop she might have done something equally as horrifying to him in retaliation. The women fall silent upon this reflection. It becomes obvious to them now who has killed Mr. Wright. But because they empathize and see the reasons behind it -- not as a result of scouting about looking for clues like the men or asking puzzling questions of the neighbors -- but simply by going about their seeming "trifles" -- which now appear as no trifles at all, but rather as important and serious work that is not to be taken lightly -- both Mrs. Hale and Mrs. Peters keep their revelation to themselves. They see that while Mr. Wright's...

Wright, indirectly he himself was responsible.
Glaspell's keen observation of the nature of men and women thus turns "Trifles" into an ironic satire: the women turn out to be the heroes of the story, whereas at the outset they appear to be nothing more than decorations in the room -- which is how they are treated by the arrogant County Attorney and Sheriff (men who apparently "know" things).

In conclusion, what appears to be an unsolvable mystery (not only of murder but also of the nature of men and women) turns out to be a short play full of symbols that alert the reader to a variety of clues uncovered by the women as they go about their business in their domain -- the home, the nest. It is theirs to rule, to sing in if they like, to stitch together just as the bird stitches together its nest for its eggs. What sadness, Glaspell illustrates, follows when that nature is cruelly suppressed! What vengeance the female will inflict upon the man who attempts to crush her nature!