Short Poems

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.


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.