Friday, June 18, 2004

Feast Days by Annie Dillard



Three things are too wonderful for me;

four I do not understand:

the way of an eagle in the sky,

the way of a serpent on a rock,

the way of a ship on the high seas,

and the way of a man with a maiden.

Today I saw a wood duck

in Tinker Creek.

In the fall flood, look

what the creek floats down:

once I glimpsed

round the edge of a bank

a troupe of actors

rained in from Kansas,

dressed for comedy.

The flood left a candelabrum

on the lawn.

With a ten-foot hook

we fished from the creek

a bunch of bananas, a zither,

a casket of antique coins.

This poem goes on for pages, and last night when Liza tossed me the book casually at the park, I had no idea.

There are times when I remember very distinctly that poetry is why I am alive.


  1. Annie Dillard is one of my favorite authors especially Pilgrim on Tinkers Creek which is somewhere out in my lending library network along w/ several Wendell Berry books. Why is it so hard for someone to say "No, I don't want to read that" rather than taking the book and burying it in the corner pile among last years resolutions?

    I will NOT lend Endurance to anyone. Another house builder has read it and he has kyacked Ellsmere island so he knows the feeling of true wilderness.


  2. Wow, you and Liza have more in common than you know.