Paul Hartal Poems
|321.||Why Tears My Love?||10/8/2011|
|322.||Why The Snow Melts||10/12/2012|
|323.||Woman With Train||10/1/2011|
|324.||Women Change, But Men Don'T?||2/23/2013|
|325.||You Are Not The Wind||10/5/2011|
|326.||You Must Be Strong||2/23/2014|
They Come In Seven Sexes
An old wing of the university
housed the laboratory.
She passed through a narrow corridor
oozing the autumn moisture
of the morning rain.
She put on a white polyester coat,
adjusted her seat and then
placed the Tetrahymena
under the microscope.
“What are you doing? ”
asked suddenly a baritone voice.
Ruth looked up surprised
and saw Tom, a doctoral student
of anatomy, standing next to her.
“Oh, I do some research
on this tiny critter”, she said.
It is a single-celled animal
from the Protozoa family,
called Tetrahymena, a ...
My life is a Corinthian acanthus leaf
On an intricately carved classic column
Enchanted pellucid palace
Silent opaque sandglass
On an amethyst shelf
From circle to sphere.
My works are gothic objects