Under the blue hat her eyes are made of
arctic tundras,
polar ice caps,
the blue sky reflected on unbroken snow.

At the other end of a gently blue shirt
is a child's hand with electric blue fingernails
and grasped between those fingers is an ordinary blue pen
drawing in vivid bue lines.

Her eyes follow a blue pen.
We see a frozen plain
abandoned by animals,
forgotten by people,
occupied only by thoughts carried by an icy wind
and memories caught below the ice.