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Don Thompson
Spiritus Loci
This place is alive. Granite
Boulders musing in the sunlight
Think deeper than I do.
Mica emits synoptic flashes.
In Loco Orationis
Midmorning, the moon lingers,
Faint as a thumbprint on a window.
No one down here’s been looking out.
Someone must be looking in.
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