DANIEL J FLOSI

OUTER INTERIORS

They turn off all the lights to gather by darkness

in the window, moment after moment the night sky flashes

limbs scatter, then burst

the shadows of memory. Thunder

rumbles and rolls on and on and on and on.

They all stop—the whole family—to look. To listen.

In his head he rehearses the truth of the moment,

though really there is nothing to say —

by the corner the dog trembles in tremolo.