From 8 P.m.

it's 7 p.m.
a twinkled sky jealously covets
a restless moon in me
as a four hour infinity gives way
to a sixty minutes century.

in the valley below heifers chew the night away.
with sheathed horns all the bulls but one
await the heat of day.

I am back home on an emergency day's leave.

two streams, a plateau and a valley
halve a heartbeat.
earlier the text was clear,
"when you get home - same window from 8 p.m."