Tina's Night

Beltran ,the artist, has seen Christina, seen her crawling form, statuary still, in the field of grass inching only in the minds eye. He has wondered, as did Wyeth what might she have been been before the polio took her lower limbs when she could stand and walk upright. Beltran's nymph Christina 'light' in sailor pink sleeveless and fragile stands stalwart and considers the blacken air, the skeletal house the ghost lights in the sky. No forward motion can we spy and action lays behind her her arms and wrists crossed. And though the rows invite cajole the Little Tina toward the night we see she's having none of it a tornado comes this night. *Please See About the Poem for Andrew Wyth's Christina's World