god'swife28 Jan 2003

First of all the title; Potluck, Thursday Nights

That is a wonderful title, leaving things open and full of surprise.

Last line first:

out into the starlight
The big stone barn shines warmth
Tthrough the overhead glass doors.

Never twice the same these steps we take.
The gravel path through the cedars
is ice tonight.

I am the last to arrive.
The dozer and the back-hoe loom
Hazy orange
Sleeping behind a sheet of insulating plastic
They crouch there, in the makeshift hall
Behind the roll down door
Prehistoric shadows
Like a playground for kids
who don't listen.

The table is set, and the food is almost ready.
There are four meats, and no salad
but nobody minds.
Another log is thrown on the fire to keep us warm
And I have brought winter ale.

We dance after dinner, separating circles
that overlap and reform, distortions
in the same flow, dance ourselves a river each week.
Never twice the same, these steps we trace.

Dance, slide, swing and kick
Socks off, crazy laughing. We make
The rafters quake.


.....That's it for now. You exhuast me. I really love this by the way. My clever girl, you are like a phone call to the twilight zone.