hitting the ground
on Cooper’s Hill
a nine pound round
of Double Gloucester
rolling around and
careering down.

and here come
the chasing crowd
flailing arms
stumbling, tumbling
somersaulting
some falling under
stampeding feet.

hurtling down doing
seventy an hour
ambulances racing
fetching folk
hit by a cheese
rolling out of control.

but now chasers
are catching up
arms reaching
desperately close
until finally someone
scoops the prize and
we have a winner.