The girl's bottom is beautiful as Peacock's dancing bear who is 70 miles from any of our fevered instruments. Neither girl nor bear utter a word to the world in between in its careless sump. The Virgin said zip to the Garrison. If you can't dance without music jump into an icy lake. Think of the brown girl at the A&W Root Beer stand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COUNTING THE BEATS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ULTIMA THULE: THE CHAMBER OVER THE GATE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO THE SAME PURPOSE by THOMAS TRAHERNE THE WAY THAT LOVERS USE by RUPERT BROOKE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 17 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |