Leftover Fragments

Prepare for her death
My mother said
How exactly do I do that?
Do I crawl back through
the dusty caveats of my mind
watching through a grainy lens
the times we spent together?
Do I rewind to the moments in
her lap bouncing for hours
forever
Running then in laps around the
kitchen?
Do I quickly retreat to the table
and the treat of sitting with her
reading the daily news
looking for the hidden little guy
in the cartoon?
Do I fast forward to the same table
drinking coffee from a
coffee maker made from nude
pantyhose?
or do I sit right here
Presently
and let whatever come
Devoid of memories
Learning to be here and now
because even when she’s gone
she will still be here
living on forever
her legacy
etched deeply
in the leftover fragments of
my broken heart?

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