PhilipJohnston.com :: Poetry :: Distant Thunder

Pigeons, turnover and mountain bikes:-
Three treasured images of a place
Where we have come to face
Accomodating mutual dislikes,
Establishing ourselves in our own world.

As the future tugs, the road of life
unending into the future.
A challenge to pause and conquer,
to face the vertigo of the way ahead.

A farewell to Germany, recognised as an Ulsterman by a stranger,
the perfect justice to end an era.
This, the most German of settings for a velvet separation
The heavens open their blessing.
There will always remain
The sound of distant thunder.

Birds flock to leave for winter homes,
Passing overhead with our feelings.
A glimpse of the past -
rain and freshly fallen chestnut leaves.
As the seasons turn, I return to a home,
Different from the one I left as a boy
Two years ago. But here too is ever
The sound of distant thunder.