In Risa Bear’s “The Things to Do,” a woman gathers what the season offers—an egg from her own hens, a found apple, beet leaves, cat’s-ear greens—and cooks them simply in a hot skillet before folding everything into a spelt wrap. The careful sequence feels both practical and tender: break, turn, add, wait, remove. When she sits down, morning light enters the eastern window and warms the thick maple boards of her grandmother’s table. At that moment, the day’s remaining tasks drop away. The meal becomes a small emblem of sufficiency rather than ambition or hurry. The mood is calm, earthy, and quietly contented, rooted in ordinary things done with attention. There is satisfaction in the work itself, and in being gathered into a moment where past and present briefly meet. The speaker seems to admire this unforced completeness.
The Things to Do — Summary
The things to do: bring an egg from her Hens, a found apple, beet leaf, cat's-ear foliage, Ensuring freshness even in October.
The skillet she heats, oil frisking. Here's egg: break yolk, turn once or twice; Insert chopped fruit and greens, with salt and pepper; Now turn again, wait, remove from heat,
Give all to a spelt wrap. As she sits to her meal, a Sun rises, invests her eastern window, spills in To caress and warm six thick maple boards Of her grandmother's table. Whatever remains to be Done's already forgotten: the meal an emblem Of all her morning cared to be.