Марк Доти. На том же месте
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Mark Doty (b. 1953). IN THE SAME SPACE
The sun set early in the Square, winter afternoons, angling over the apartments to the west, so that light would bisect the northern row of dark houses diagonally, the grand houses that were suddenly not of the last century but of the century before. Then the world would seem equally divided, a while, between the golden and the chill, equipoise in a bitter year. When the sun was completely gone, we’d turn for home, the dogs and I, and to the south, the two towers, harshly formal by day, brusque in their authority – at the beginning of evening they’d go a blue a little darker than the sky, lit from top to bottom by a wavering curtain of small, welcoming lamps.
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