DAVID CONSTANTINE reads "As our bloods separate"

As our bloods separate the clock resumes,
I hear the wind again as our hearts quieten.
We were a ring: the clock ticked around us
For that time and the wind was deflected.
The clock pecks everything to the bone.
The wind enters through the broken eyes
Of houses and through their wide mouths
And scatters the ashes from the hearth.
Sleep. Do not let go my hand.
~
From "Selected Poems"