A Pearl

The pain has gone
and left a pearl
in its
place.

Tough and mouthless is the
sickness
that drags my body while
spreading ice on my
heart.

Without a little love
to take care
of my uncombed hair
under the trees of a
sun.

I jumb at the rock of
death.

Do my eyes fool me? perhaps not.
The
air dresses the world in royal purple,

And maybe
this, my hardest poem,
forges a
course
tonight
to nowhere.