St. Christina prays, with head tossed back And eyes uplifted toward heaven, as she kneels In the topmost branches of a Birch tree, Under a sky that I remember from my childhood, A rare blue egg tempera wash that would ha
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St. Christina prays, with head tossed back And eyes uplifted toward heaven, as she kneels In the topmost branches of a Birch tree, Under a sky that I remember from my childhood, A rare blue egg tempera wash that would ha