I've just found this poem! I must have received it sometime between '64 and '69 when I worked at the Winkfield
NASA STADAN station. I wonder what station it was talking about.
The last Post Pass Calibration
Silent, deserted, no longer alive,
With the bustle of former days:
Standing listless in the sun
The intruders have gone their ways.
Nearby, the stands for antennae rise
In testimony of the time,
When metal fingers probed the sky
At the satellites in their climb.
Kangaroos gaze with soft brown eye
At the station that used to be
And the salt lake stretches dazzling white
Like a shimmering timeless sea.
Within the building silent stands
The equipment deadly mute:
Tape recorders spin no more,
The silence is acute.
No more to hear the SCAMA call
Nor the 'birds'unearthly note
'That's station 18, finished now'
You'll hear the knowing quote
But across the country to the east
There grows a like creation
Within it holds the traditions of
Old number 18 station.
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