Potluck

brother of neighbor
and friend of friend
converge under the light
of a thousand glowing balls
and a million stars

pot and kettle
get together
and call each other
not a single name

we turn water to wine…no
rather, wine flows like water
until john makes an ass
of himself and I help

the embers burn
hot and late
while countless kernels
succumb to its fiery influence

we knew the moon,
while hidden from view,
was shrouded in the veil
of our own shadow

and like the moon
for at least one night
our problems dissolve
or at least hide from view