From Outer Space 

By Ruth Stone

Your gray glasses are for playing the piano

Your brown glasses are for strong reading

Brids scratch in the snow for seeds
Your oldest cat sleeps on your best papers

It is overcast, Tuesday and the coffee too dark
Nothing but sugar in the cupboard
That's when the voice from the galaxy comes back
saying   -  Praise Be.

It had a good sleep. It is ready to translate

And the disc that someone planted in your skull picks up a little static, and you hear

Come in minus 103

The Japanese report remnant, debris,  gas
large chunks of matter.

Listen, listen I kid you not - This is real.
Now get this down

This morning snow fell.
Thirty Six bluejays, fifteen assorted sparrows
and five surviving chickadees
fought through the weather

Get this  A poem about a new subject 
Now listen - write this down.......