How long does it take to read a poem?

We sat at the dining table. K. had papers with handwritten notes in front of him. The coffee was done, the gathiya and ribbon pakoda packets were on the side, forgotten for now. The sun had set and some scattered light and shadows lingered, like those children refusing to leave the playground, just the way Fitzgerald described that scene. K started to read and then quickly jumped up to switch off some bulbs, so that all that intruded into the space was a rivulet of light spilling from a corner. He then sat on the chair, settled down, and read a letter he had written to Faiz for his birthday, which is today, February 13th. What K said toward the end struck me, and stuck with me. He said he could not have written this letter before; he had to have had this much time, all these years, to write a letter to Faiz about his art. And this question germinated and started to sprout lines — how long does it take to read a poem?