Alone on a pinnacle
When the thunder rumbles,
His wavering spirit
Desire becomes forlorn.
His legs stammer and tremble,
Stiffening nigh like lead.
Though thunder is never seen;
The woes are in his head-
As his path is one well-worn.
The thunder is a scapegoat;
Or a mirage rather,
Conjured by a troubled mind
So the peak seems farther,
Though it is the same each morn.
Jack Growden's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Thunder by Jack Growden )
- A Call to the MinuteMen, Michael Stevens
- Romeos morning serenade climb, Mark Heathcote
- Screamers, Lev Brekhman
- Bitter lament, Lev Brekhman
- Breakheart solo, Lev Brekhman
- Pygmalion, Lev Brekhman
- Be ready, Lev Brekhman
- The clock, Lev Brekhman
- In clover, Lev Brekhman
- Frictionless existence, Lev Brekhman
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