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

1

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