cycling to work

After unseasonable warmth the frost mist noose lies curled tight in the hollows nipping my fingers and over eager spring green buds.

But already the sun has softened
birds warble undaunted joyous in the heavens
and jewel drop dew hangs poised from the branches
round clear drip to the ground
where it spatters soft and wet quite

unlike the diamond sharp cutting fragments gleaned
from a breaking bottle spree lying in wait
for an unsuspecting cyclist.

A foppish young man stretches elegant as a dancer with a tape measure on a bridge.

An arthritic dog skitters erratic across my path.

People passing smiling by.