top of page

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.

bottom of page