With a furnace of her own
She stalks into the night.
Her eyes, her lips
Are stars to which
I am drawn.
Her heat warms my
Wintered heart.
Sometimes one finds a line that just begs to be used in a poem-the line here being the title of a wonderful article in a recent NY Times Science (Feb 20)section by Natalie Angier. The article is about the advantages and disadvantages of being warm blooded, something I often use as a case study about adaptations. In fact I just talked about this article as part of a discourse on thermodynamics to my introductory biology class.
The article's title is a real grabber and I just had to do something with it, hence this poem for my wife. The CAT though thinks it's for her.
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2 comments:
I really like this, Paul; its passion sort of emerges as one reads and rereads it.
Thanks John.
One of the nice thngs about writing poetry is I never know what is going to happen when I put that first line down. That is true regardless of the poem's length.
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