The Radiant Bicycles On The Moon Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

(for Ray Bradbury)

the radiant bicycles on the moon

have interrupted my sleep three times this week already

when I wonder who is riding them and where

jostled awake by the dream pantomimes

I can't answer for there

we could be mystified by the green and blue hula hoops

in their orbits

and is the moon the substance of ice cream double scooped

without the Hershey syrup?

oh golden vanilla; blueberry stars, are there bicycle bells in

tandem with the ice cream bars the way it was once on earth

I dreamed of typewriter ampersands in gold and the quick

brown fox when we could choose from among the frozen

treats with Grandfather's dimes or when seated

in the green hosed gardens

we could be helping ourselves to desserts like Floating Island

Or Cherries Jubilee at least in the magazines.

maybe I won't sleep through the night again the child

in the sundress

but stay awake in the matinees assessing the avenues of the

moon, oh shades of the orangeade! where there are no

mutinies except for Beauty's sake or the toy train running

through the platted town on either side of the rails

the pedestrians there in parabolic colours...

the seersuckers in pastels. forgive me when

i drift off at the closing bell

forgive me if I sleep past noon skipping the malteds,

the crispy BLTs (that's bacon, lettuce and tomato

on buttered toast points)

and wander about the lunar surfaces in my sleep or wonder(

if the citizens miss the turning of leaves in an emerald wind

and won't they come home soon, because of that.

mary angela douglas 29 may 2020