Beyond The Furniture. Poem by Graham Leese

Outside’s Asgard blue, air cold and virile. Unseen ribbons
Tangle mid flight mid air, a brush by the thigh, shoulder.
Breath hangs like an explosion of sudden shadow except
It is silence, translucent, light. Motion slips, traffic just another
Current like passing trains, helicopters low above the roofs.
That feeling of engine dread lifts as if bodies float in the water,
The north circ consumes. Standing on metal bridges
Whilst singing to soldiers of victories at hanger lane, deaths
Beyond the furniture. Decades of shop fronts and still glass
Blues, the Scandinavian hues of humiliation and smell of MDF.