Portraits painted dazzle untouchable white walls
Sculptures sculpted scattered across picture-perfect lawns
People wander amongst such simple wonders, crafted by hands no different then their own
The hands that swing along
that hold the childrens'

that hide in pockets
These hands are no more special than the two that held hammer and chisel to the marble
paintbrush to canvas
The fingers that twirl the girl's hair
No different in shape or form than the fingers that molded the clay
that pressed the button to capture the image
Framed and on display for its brilliance
Yet when all is said and done
All eyes are the same
as they stand back and admire