Shanhu Lee

In the blue of the arctic night,

a young girl dons a cerulean turban.

Her face, tender and tranquil.

Green eyes, quietly looking back.

A pearl earring radiant in the air,

shaped in a seashell.

The pearl, ironically large

to the age of innocence.

Her smile mystic,

as if she is not smiling,

but about to whisper

or awake.

As if a little butterfly is about to

flutter away,

wondering about life.