Poetry Svajūnas Dačkevičius. Senility Aldona December 1, 2021 Stooping, deaf in the ageing hoursHobbling towards the house of GodThrough streets of strewn flowers,Nearer to your own you trod. And your eyes lift to the skies,A mysterious new space,Where the souls of ancestors rise –Wait, it’s not yet your place. Stooping, deaf and on your own,Disappearing into the mist.The silent evening prayer alone,The melting candle unmissed. Post Views: 182