ALLEY –
ALLEY
and not so that skies and waters
they wake up inside me:
a network of the sun that stretches
on your walls that were in the evening
a swing of lamps
from late shops
full of wind and sadness.
Another time: a loom beat in the courtyard
And weeping was heard at night
Of puppies and children.
Alley: a cross of houses
Which are called a piano,
and they don't know what fear is
to be alone in the dark.
QUASIMODO poem
From the square of the tower, on the side of which stands the church of the Carmine, (note the signs left on the wall by the ropes of the bells) depart streets and alleys that rise, descend and intersect the village.
- Last shots and stories, continue here.