a wedding party thunders above
while the piano man plays 
atop the sound gliding like
a boat across a glass flat lake
said he studied for only a year

a woman and the bartender 
struggle with digital wallets
swearing she wants to leave a tip
for all the wine she’s been drinking

behind, a man speaks loudly
with the bravado of someone afraid
that if they go quiet 
they’ll be forgotten

we’re given a tour of the kitchen
drinks in hand 
as we pick out what we want 
for snacks
eating like royalty 
of fruits, meats, and cheeses

a single night
we are not Mom and Dad
not a ride to the next concert
not a shoe tie and a lost sock
not the heartbreak of seeing them
grown and helpless with the way
things are turning sour

for a single night
the world is not ending
our identities twirl and mingle
collect into an
Old Fashioned and a Lemon Drop

that night
we owned the place
and I’m not sorry