Kick against the sun. The great generator, its spangles and chains. Belly into dusk the silence the still air the curve of trance. Let your shadow shimmy over the floor of the deep end. Mysterious. Cool. Like Jimi plucking steel strings with his teeth and spitting out stones. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub, an online community where poets share their work and support each other. (image via) Continue reading the deep end