Brick I used to want to be a thing of art. But in the basking sunlight now I try for Zen. It is good to be of use. I am wanted here. Without me this walkway would not be. We make it so. But what if I could be a marble sight, Or even one of concrete, lion-like To guard the yard? A fanciful bird, a cow, a frog - A thing of beauty or laughs. But no. I am a brick. And I should take my pleasure in this fact. Walk on me. I may not be of pleasant form. But I am here. copyright E Glas Durboraw, December 12, 2001 - Birmingham