Comments about Christine Natale
The Saint And Her Fool
She appears in the evening, young and lovely,
Tracing the very edge of a womanhood
That she will never know.
She glides among the trees, singing a silent
Vespers to the stars, and sighing love
And praise to her lord and God.
Dressed in white robes, soft sandals
Bind her feet and keep them
From the sharp and thorny ground.