A Poem by Stan

I

The night cools in midnight blues
The moon itself whipped and scourged
By myriad limbs rolling quietly by;
Only the sweet purring of gears in the night.

II

The speaker of this speech is thinking thoughts,
The speaker thinks,
Thoughts doggy and four-legged
And bearing fangs:
A growl, a shaking limb
And moving grass.
“Why didn’t you buy a light?”

III

The summer sun invests the road with heat,
Which, a good guest, breaks party and departs,
Costumed as an ancient spirit
Rising from the black purity
Of asphalt in the summer night.

This poem is the record of a night time bike ride Kathy and I took through county roads south of Muncie sometime in the late 70’s, quite probably 1977. We’d moved to a farm house north of town in 1978 and our riding stayed north after that. It was one of those nights when the humidity was down, the sky was clear, the moon was a perfect full, and, except for the occasional dogs, we really enjoyed the ride. While vision during the ride was perfect because of the incredibly bright moon, we did install lights afterwards, it should be noted.