Christina's World

A poem written from the inspiration of the great Andrew Wyeth painting

Christina’s World                                                         

 

 

 

In Christina’s world she sits alone

Her face is turned but she appears full grown

A ballerina in a field of brown

Is she stalking, posing, or just fallen down

 

Summer days are made of these things

We lie in the grass, listen to the breeze

It’s easy to think we know what she sees

But then we learn of Christina’s disease

 

She crawls for the house, coming or going

Her legs can’t carry her, no longer growing

She can’t run and jump the way others do

But she’s closer to the flowers and she likes that view