Bob Bumstead
Waldo Lake
From Shadow Bay
on a sunny windless day
go out deep
look down
though an unending column
of water
and feel
its true color
the indigo spirit
of the natural world.
A Walk in the Desert with Gary
We walked for hours in the desert
two weeks after the rains had urged
every seed to rise and flower.
When we returned,
our shoes were gold with pollen.
Crow
The crow outside the classroom window
never sat in a row
hands folded just so,
never raised a hand
when she didn’t understand
a metaphoric sigh
never asked a reason why.
She just lit on the post
a poem all of her own.
Moon over Black Canyon
The moon rises
over Black Canyon
softening the contours
of Hoover Dam
knowing it will not last.