Cheltenham is near winter
the air deep-chilled
on these still mornings
when cold settles
to make breath smoke and drift
lazy in the early silence
it is quiet here
the street is sleeping
and I am alone
to see the broad-leaf dancer
on the green carpet of nature strip
beneath a lifeless tree
across the road
rising tall
four straight shoots stand
unmoving and rigid
surrounding a colleague
with an unstoppable
need to move
in the urgent vibrations
of a private rhythm
some of us are born to dance
even if we have to dance alone
in the chill silence
of a Cheltenham morning
~