Understood.

The CLOCKS of the DEAD

One night I went to keep the clock company.

It had a loud tick after midnight

As if it were uncommonly afraid.

It's like whistling past a graveyard,

I explained.

In any case, I told him I understood.

Once there were clocks like that

In every kitchen in America.

Now the factory's windows are all broken.

The old men on night shift are in Charon's boat

The day you stop, I said to the clock,

The little wheels they keep in reserve

Will have rolled away

Into many hard-to-find places.

Just thinking about it,

I forgot to wind the clock.

We woke up in the dark.

How quiet the city is, I said.

Like the clocks of the dead, my wife replied.

Grandmother on the wall,

I heard the snows of your childhood

Begin to fall.

Charles Simic