I can not find Mae's recipe for Swedish rye bread;
I thought it was taped to the fridge next

to obituaries, and the phone number
of Joon’s Korean restaurant.  She knew

the bread recipe the way one knows the feel
of a lover’s back or a favorite character

of a cherished book.  I seldom think of her,
mostly when I am hungry or cold.  Today

I am both, and it is only September;
what will become of me by December?

I didn't.

I never thought rain could be a good thing.

But did you know
Did you know
I'm doing the best I can
And did you know
Did you know
The light in my heart
Has only gotten brighter
Due to you?

And even if I'm afraid
Of what the future holds,
I know that if I'm holding
Your hand
I can handle anything
The world has up its sleeve.