They dance now
Wholly in air, it seems,
Enhanced by atmospheres
Of pure decorum.

Rapt in the flow
Of what they wear, we think
Of light improbable rivers
Moving through air.

No strain escorts
Their grace; they dance so well
Their shadows stand and gape
Along the walls,

And we are pleased
To feel our weight cascade
Around our bones and down
Into our chairs

For we would never
Spend our lives dancing,
Dancing to an unmusical
Mean end.