Algimantas Mackus

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Best Poem of Algimantas Mackus

The Drowned Woman

You ached for you own river:
to fold your clothes on the shore
and play with the water - naked.

Your river came to you:
the shore held but a ragged shadow of bush
and the footprints of bare feet.

Now you have your river:
the wind lifted your shroud
and gave the river back to you.

Read the full of The Drowned Woman

In Mourning


Right at seven that morning
right then at seven a.m.
it was that morning at seven
death had to have homage shown.

At seven a.m.
national guardsmen