The circumstances of a brick
Accustomed to the stillness,
Who every evening hopes
To find a pattern in it all,
Whose voice is but a faint reply
To statements of the passersby,
Absorbed into the shadows
Where the crumbling mortar falls.

A light upon the lattice-work.
A mirror of the day.
The life of just a red-brick
In a gestalt losing shape
And seeing nothing for its blindness
So the evenings leak away.

Too close to all the others,
But withdrawing nonetheless,
A red-brick in the masonry
Beneath a window bathed with light,
Who’s evermore convinced
A new arrangement might be best.

#Vancouver #WA

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