Eyewear is very glad to feature a new poem this Wednesday by Peter Oswald. He is a playwright, poet, and performer. He has had verse plays performed at the Globe Theatre, National Theatre, and on Broadway. His many plays are published by Oxford University Press, Methuen, and Oberon Books.
Cold May
Cold May comes through the window - trembling panes
Have marked its passage through the glass and through
The water of our glances, down the lanes
Of lungs, trees shaken by its nowhere-blue.
The sight of its no-face where cloud-thoughts pass
Through its unmind, will wipe your face away,
A finger-picture on the misted glass,
A finger-picture on the misted glass,
And put you where it was, so that cold May
Is looking out at you. See where it stares
Out at you now, two children eating toast,
Normally noisy but now hushed as hares.
Cold May has filled them with its shivering ghost,
Cold May has filled them with its shivering ghost,
And you must change and come back to them soon,
With all the shouting sunlight of warm June.
With all the shouting sunlight of warm June.
poem by Peter Oswald
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