There is a kind of out-of-sight dreaming
that never stops. Light for other eyes.
A zone where creeping thoughts learn to walk.
Faces and forms regrouped.
We're moving on a street, among people
in blazing sun.
But just as many—maybe more—
we don't see
are in dark buildings,
high on both sides.
Sometimes one of them comes to the window
and glances down on us.
—Tomas Tranströmer, from the poem Dream Seminar (trans Swedish)
Downtown, the people scene, the seen and the unseen.
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