So Many Small Somethings to Notice, November 2025
into the day
comes invitation:
to plant the feet,
to notice.
so, each in turn, we offer our attention.
i offer my attention
to the hammered-silver earrings
on top of the chest of drawers
and the reflection of the overhead
lightbulb in my tea,
to the tiny scratches on the table
and the torn corner of the crinkled tissue
i am about to discard.
we wonder,
what if
we let it change us,
this attentiveness?
i offer my attention
to the freckle—no, age spot—on my right forearm
and the keyhole in the drawer of the oak sideboard,
to the uneven edge of a ripped-open envelope flap
and the severed stem of the mini-pumpkin
on the hutch.
to the cloudiness of the salt shaker glass
and the circular nipple image
on my leather keychain,
to the walnut-sized rock from bald mountain
placed on the radiator cover
and the silkiness of a peach-colored rose petal.
to the drape of a strand of hair
on the chair
and the small red berries
on the paper napkin beside me,
to the permanent spot
on the right lens of my eyeglasses
and the hand-basted stitches in the quilt
hanging on the wall at a tilt.
what if ?
what if we let our attention
to the small somethings
in the world—
the lightbulb in the tea,
the red berries,
the pumpkin stem,
the hand-basted stitches—
change us?
what
if we let it change us?
—JM, LH, AP, DS
=====
3 x 3″; watercolor mounted on folded hand-pressed paper
card #33 in a series of color swatches
2025
=====
Notes about poem and art:
• Longtime friends and I gathered for lunch in early November to celebrate the completion of a chemotherapeutic plan of treatment for one of us. As part of our time together, we each turned our focused attention to identifying four small somethings in our immediate surroundings. Using the lists we jotted down, I drafted “So Many.”
• I created Each Moment in advance of our get-together, painting a second autumnal-maple-leaf color-swatch card which I then mounted on hand-pressed paper from my stash. After the fact, I composed our poem and transcribed it onto a folded sheet of cream-colored paper to tuck into the card depicted above. So many small somethings to notice. So much presence in noticing what is right before us here and now.
dottyseiter: now playing 
Leave a reply to Sheila Marie Delgado Cancel reply