I knew your love was nothing but fool’s gold,
But there was just enough in its allure
As I went wandering, alone, heart-poor,
Engrossed in thoughts of treasure I could hold.
I spied your pieces, bright as real gold gleams,
But shrewder eyes would soon have spotted brass
Where richer tones should be. Of all this mass,
I couldn’t forge a fleck to fit my dreams.
Some months before, I’d left the wilder lands
Where I had shoveled for more honest stuff
And labored long, and sweated till my hands
Held some small specks. I might’ve dug enough,
But truer ore was so much harder mined
I dropped my spade and grabbed your love, half-blind.