Brick Maker Poem by T. M. Moore

Brick Maker



What’s that I’m making? Bricks, and nothing more.
These sentences and words are all I know.
I hope their usefulness might long endure.

Don’t get me wrong: I love my bricks. I pour
my heart and mind into each one, although
they’re only bricks – just bricks, and nothing more.

No soaring edifice or tome’s in store
for me. My calling is to bricks, just so.
(I hope their usefulness might long endure.)

Someone might use my bricks to build a more
impressive structure. Someone else might throw
these bricks I’m making (bricks, and nothing more) ,

to smash the false front of some worldview store.
I cannot know to what ends they might go;
I hope their usefulness might long endure.

Take these my bricks. Make them your own, and go,
build truth and beauty, or bring hubris low:
I’ll keep on making bricks, and nothing more,
and hope their usefulness might long endure.

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