My Brand-New Daily Planner Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

I like to plan.
I like these pages bare,
my future fresh.
(I never mind the cost.)
So many possibilities!
With care I keep it,
fearing, dreading it get lost.
My old one seems so fragile,
patched and stained,
with names and numbers
crammed on every line.
So much crossed out
and yet a lot remained,
insertions, too,
but not by my design.
The heedless youth believes
'I'll never die! '
The old
'Is this the day? '
We in-betweens obsess,
'By greasy valves?
By sugar high?
By bug bite,
bomb,
false step?
By threats unseen? '
I can't control
the where or when or how.
Still I prefer
to start my planning now.