Daniela Balmaverde

Thank you @Seán Griffin for the beautiful poem, it capture the sculpture’s soul.

I hope to see soon this poem displayed @the Ormeau Library beside the sculpture!

I catch her often,

gathered within

her makeshift bower;

hollow figure in reverie,

unmindful of intrusion.

Features, unfinished,

undefined:

a splintered identity

still hold some

sense of self.

Her left hand, her only hand,

clasping an open book;

her face engaged

in reading;

held captive

by undiscovered words.

Her body, what’s left of it,

inclines forward

connecting with the tome

as she immerses

herself

into another state.

On her shoulder,

a silent blackbird slants,

echoing her gaze,

perusing the cryptic page

in search of meaning.

Faltering leaves now fall

about her

from a pendent elm;

languid autumnal

shower

of

flaming russet.

The mesmerising page,

unturned,

carries her to a place

where an

incomplete woman

is made

whole.