short reflection from east of home

[joel]

In fifty-six minutes but westward
next morning erects itself new:
the hour and the minute embracing
their hands’ shared position—but westward
(said land of the dead) persevering,
the fifty-six minutes till future
relax in a rhythm delaying
its sunset. Pro Patria westward.

[judih]

she says 'eleven'
he says '11'
it's the thought that counts