Recipe

In my dream you looked pretty damn good.

You assured me that you were feeling much better

And that you were going to work at a new convenience store

And that you weren’t at all sure if you liked your new boss all that much better than the previous one.

We were in your apartment and it sparkled.

I looked at the kitchen table and there was a plate of toll house chocolate chip cookies,

A recipe you tucked in your pocket book when Ma passed away.

I asked you where you hid it, and you laughed.

A mean but loving laugh.

I said that I was sorry that I was going away,

Though in real life, I never left.

But you did.

In the dream

• I know it was a dream

I said that I will call you often,

And it would be like I was still right there with you.

Though the circumstances are reversed,

I think I will still call you.

After all, I still have your number in my phone.

Maybe you’ll tell me the recipe.