Litany of Small Things

Let me praise the small things.

They have not asked for praise.

That is why they need it.

The first cup of coffee.

The sound of rain on a roof

you are not responsible for.

The particular silence

after a long conversation.

The book that falls open

to the right page.

The word you were looking for

that arrives, finally, at two in the morning.

The sentence that holds.

The friend who texts

at the exact right moment.

The stranger who holds the door.

The small, unremarkable kindnesses

that keep the world running.

The light at four in the afternoon

in October.

The smell of bread.

The weight of a sleeping animal

against your leg.

The small things do not ask

to be remembered.

They do not ask for anything.

They are simply there,

doing their small work,

holding the world together

one ordinary moment at a time.

Let me praise them.

Let me not forget them.

Let me be, sometimes,

one of them.