Lighter in a Window
Matthew Rohrer
What I thought was someone’s lighter
in a window across the courtyard
was lightning—just the beginning
of lightning
then the little girl’s toys
flew across the kitchen
and it was like, forgive me,
death was hammering to get in
when the hailstorm rushed
upon us after it shut down
a televised football game
to the west of us
the breath of autumn’s being
right on top of the roof
like a beast’s breathing down
on the house—I felt
a kinship with the totally ignorant
and the fearful
a desire to run outside