The Radiant Bicycles On The Moon

(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 trains 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