Sometimes on a summer’s day the village is sunk
In silence, as if sunk under the earth.
Sometimes there is a seat by the side of the road, with a cat
Resting on it. Each day appears unnoticed.
Sometimes the wall of a house stands in the light.
The spirit does not feel itself forsaken.
Sometimes in the city a man suddenly collapses
And dies in the midst of the noise of the highway.
Sometimes when the sea outside is calm,
Sometimes the frozen ships attempt to move.
In silence, as if sunk under the earth.
Sometimes there is a seat by the side of the road, with a cat
Resting on it. Each day appears unnoticed.
Sometimes the wall of a house stands in the light.
The spirit does not feel itself forsaken.
Sometimes in the city a man suddenly collapses
And dies in the midst of the noise of the highway.
Sometimes when the sea outside is calm,
Sometimes the frozen ships attempt to move.
— Annie Dillard, “Attempt to Move” (found poem using material from Max Picard’s The World of Silence, 1948) (Mornings Like This, HarperPerennial, 1995)
(Source: gammasandgerunds, via zhix)
