Change Of Plans Poem by david lessard

My trip is off, there's too much going on,
I had the feeling it would not transpire;
Things up there are going wrong,
Nothing bad, but it puts out the fire.

I was 'jumping the gun, ' the notice was
too short,
I was too anxious to up and leave;
Now my plans I've had, I must abort;
and I must make new ones to weave.

I'm sticking close to home this time,
No longer roads of great distance;
I'll see the desert places in this clime,
Like Canyon De Chelly, for instance.

Or maybe Organ Pipe, that'd be fun,
Cacti formations in various pose;
I'll do some things that I haven't done,
And strike off for spots by following my nose.

There's canyons and cliffsides just calling,
Where the shadows fall eighty feet long;
And the longer I sit, I'll be stalling,
The vagabonds are singing my song.

There's a vast open land in my dreams,
And stark beauty that lifts up my heart;
This still life has me crawling the seams,
The clock is running too fast...
and I must start.