We talked about her legacy,
which got to be a bummer
when you considered that legacies
are usually built on endings.
“You’ll live for a long long time,” I began to say,
but she shook her head before I invested too far into the lie.

“This is where you’ll put the notice up,” she said,
“and this is where I keep my passwords.”
I nodded, taking notes, focusing on the job at hand.
“We’re making good time,” she added, as she closed up the laptop. “Lunch?”
“Mm-hmph.”

“You ever think about what’s next?” I asked,
munching on frozen fruit.
“I’m too busy making music
– that you’re going to sell afterwards.”
“Of course.”
“There’s too much to concern myself with now,” she replied,
“I’ve got more than enough time to think about what’s next, next.”
I didn’t have much to say.
I’m always thinking about what’s next.
It occupies a lot of my time.
Probably too much.