Caren Krutsinger Poet Rhyme

Driving Into a Test Pattern Moon

On a winding road of Channel Eight
I come across a test pattern, for I am late
In the form of the moon, an eclipse? Oh, great!
I stare into the eyes of grayscale fate.

I feel mesmerized, violated, a pawn somehow.
There it is, in front of me, an unbelievable wow.
No animal in sight – not a horse, human or cow.
Who on God’s gray earth will believe me now? 

I expect to hear the National Anthem of course.
This test pattern eclipse is a nineteen sixties discourse.
Have aliens somehow learned our secret code in Morse?
And will they now take to their planet by weirdness or force?

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L Milton Hankins June 8, 2022 at 9:19 AM A long time since I've seen that test pattern which was so common to all of us in the fifties. Caren Krutsinger June 8, 2022 at 3:53 PM I miss it and so does Joe; we want it back, and it would be lovely if all the technology would quit working from midnight to six too.