November 16, 2017

One poem by Don Thompson


Sometimes in this world, slightly
to one side of our five senses,
a stone becomes translucent.

It seems to be a Japanese lantern
made of unimaginable litho-paper.
Foolish to think so,

and yet, there it is in the dusk,
aglow, holding the last light
as long as possible.

DON THOMPSON was born and raised in Bakersfield, California, and has lived in the southern San Joaquin Valley for most of his life.  He has been publishing poetry since the early sixties, including a dozen books and chapbooks.  For more information and links to his publications, visit his website San Joaquin Ink (

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