a poem a day, for four days | day 2

written 12.18.2011 @ 38,000 ft. without a pen, on a red eye plane strolling west.
i repeated it to myself for 3 hours until we landed and i ran for a pen finally getting it down on the last page of a book i had, my only paper. the employees on the flight would not allow me to borrow a pen from them. :p

the following is © Ashley Lebedev | Bottle Bell ™
please enjoy, but please don't swipe. | xo


i watched the sun rise,
for three hours
bursting from the sky
like a swollen tidal wave
unfolding itself across my waking americana.

a castle of mirages
rose up
3000 mile billow of
lit bonfire
two honey eyed bobbers like
cathedral beacons
those fleeting arches
were traces of zion.

i saw an avalanche there,
in her kettle below
lead-bellied curves
rolling from the hands
of mineral giants,
rousing from her clouds
and evergreen terrain
like a frozen breath of chalk dust.

i felt the youth of virtue
revisiting me in her strange pace
as we plunged from blue
to the milky white,
stirred quilt,
concoction of fog.

prism of patchwork
underbelly of rainbows.

a soft child's hand
treaded my face
in all the weight of ghosts
pondering along
a game of remembrance,
shaky hopscotch.

her permanent mirror,
chisel of
spooky craters
or course cloak,
descendent of oceans,

two orphans coming home.



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