Personal Ad Poem by Don Pearson

I offer neither jewels nor bars of gold
Wrested with men’s blood
From the earth’s heart.

You shall with me gain no great tracts of land
Seized or forfeited
By the long dead.

I will etch words into the sand for you
So you may forget
When the tide turns.

I’ll paint a life onto the frosty grass
You can blow on it
To drive it thence.

But should you choose to wind a spell with me
A dandelion clock
Might start to tick.

Then we could sit where pasts and futures merge
Hold our candles high
While darkness waits.

For we may love enough to slow down time
While lichens hug stone
And waters flow.