Her Face

resembles my face
where blue

leads to winter to a room

that's ashen that settles

where nettles obscure

though my eye finds a clearing

a window nearing brilliance

and blue shifts to sky.
Her face

resembles my face
but only in winter

for Camus
taught me well:

In the midst
of winter

I found
within me

an invincible
summer.

And that
makes me happy.

And that's
where I dwell.