The Transfer

By Katje Kaase


Timid eyes squint and strain

But miss the dancing danger.

Specks spray like ballet twirls.

They land on slippery floors.

Pointed shoes direct the way

But the droplets do not stay.


They pass to partners,

Prance and spin,

Collide like acrobats.

The audience is unaware

The transfer has begun

And, for some, their dance

Is done!


March, 2020