Home has not slept since I left,
we sit, awake at the same time.
I live in England these days,
it runs six hours too fast, I am left
waiting for home to catch up. A day
is six weeks here, I only have 168 days
until home can crawl in my arms,
sleep in her eyes, having waited years
for me to swim across the Pond.
I am still unable to make sense of time here,
but I’ll be home soon and time will run
like it always has since I was born.