WHITE BOND BLUES

If I could but escape
this 8 and 1/2 by 11 inch
rectitude, and convey to you
the heartstopping beauty
of a lone thunderstorm
haunting the Sierra Estrellas,
its ice-crystal crown
(stained sombre-yellow
by the feeble light
of a spent sunset)
straining to touch
the first bold stars
of the summer evening