And Off He Went, into Whatever Else Lay in Store for Him That Day

Nothing lays in store for you,
This day or any other.
The past is everything but

Strangely indeterminate.
Your future’s not a warehouse
Of stuff in storage for you.

It will show up in your past,
Looking highly familiar,
Some weirdly unlike the rest.

Keep living, keep accruing,
Keep shedding what you’ve accrued.
Narrate a few anecdotes.

Use your vivid memories,
Your supplies of languages
And literary phrases.

That’s what you’ve stored up for you,
Your details, all in the past.
Nothing lays in store for you.