Angol
IMAGE TRACKS AT HALIFAX by L.B. Felsen All living kind much effort spend Some model modes, some model rays, To cope with their environment Some feel that spectra all portrays. Some use their eyes, some use their nose Then there are those who with despatch, To sense where other things repose. Take refuge in the ocean wedge. For one group, nothing's more profound Than to explore the world with sound. If things get messy, randomize. These audio diagnosticians What's partly smooth, determinize. You ponder, is it this or that? Go by the name of acousticians. And wish you were a lowly bat They regularly meet to check Whether their sonogram's on track. The meeting's hosts did treat us well. With images stored in their packs, They let the climate cast its spell. This year they came to Halifax. No weath'ry hope was placed in vain. There they combined with ocean types We were exposed to wind and rain, And each could hear the other's gripes. We glimpsed blue sky through clouds dispersed. A meeting naturally does start But rainy sequence was reversed: Reviewing present state of art. The ocean types would like it wet What we found out is where it's at: Yet they got stuck with sun instead. We cannot hope to match the bat Each confrence has the same refrain: Computer printouts by the reams It has been fun to meet again.
