Which stаtement mоst аccurаtely captures the central fоcus оf epidemiology?
Discussiоn. Write а detаiled respоnse, identifying аnd explaining the significance twо poetic elements in any one of the poems listed below. You should write two well-developed paragraphs—one for each poetic element. Be sure to use specific examples and details from the poem to support your answer. I am looking for explanation and analysis here, not summary / paraphrasing of the poem. My Papa's Waltz" by Theodore Roethke The whiskey on your breathCould make a small boy dizzy;But I hung on like death:Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pansSlid from the kitchen shelf;My mother’s countenanceCould not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wristWas battered on one knuckle;At every step you missedMy right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my headWith a palm caked hard by dirt,Then waltzed me off to bedStill clinging to your shirt. "Aunt Jennifer's Tigers" by Adrienne Rich Aunt Jennifer's tigers prance across a screen,Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.They do not fear the men beneath the tree;They pace in sleek chivalric certainty. Aunt Jennifer's finger fluttering through her woolFind even the ivory needle hard to pull.The massive weight of Uncle's wedding bandSits heavily upon Aunt Jennifer's hand. When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lieStill ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.The tigers in the panel that she madeWill go on prancing, proud and unafraid. "Song" by Edmund Waller Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that’s young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee; How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair! "Dandelion Insomnia" by Ada Limon The big-ass bees are back, tipsy, sun drunk and heavy with thick knitted leg warmers of pollen. I was up all night again so today's yellow hours seem strange and hallucinogenic. The neighborhood is lousy with mowers, crazy dogs, and people mending what winter ruined. What I can't get over is something simple, easy: How could a dandelion seed head seemingly grow overnight? A neighbor mows the lawn and bam, the next morning, there's a hundred dandelion seed heads straight as arrows and proud as cats high above any green blade of manicured grass. It must bug some folks, a flower so tricky it can reproduce asexually, making perfect identical selves, bam, another me, bam, another me. I can't help it--I root for that persecuted rosette so hyper in its own making it seems to devour the land. Even its name, translated from the French dent de lion, means lion's tooth. It's vicious, made for a time that requires tenacity, a way of remaking the toughest self while everyone else is asleep.