We’ve returned to autumn again; summer,
like an exercise book we’re tired of writing in, remains
full of deletions, abstract designs,
question marks in the margin; we’ve returned
to the season of eyes gazing
into the mirror under the electric light
closed lips and people strangers
in rooms in streets under the pepper-trees
while the headlights of cars massacre
thousands of pale masks.
Isaac Levitan (Russian landscape painter, 1860-1900) | Spring in Italy
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