Stuck Safe in Strange Times Stuck At home. I feel mired. Can’t get into My car and go where I darn well want to go. Time stands still ‘til I’m restless. Junk food in the house calls to me. I miss meeting friends for dinner out. How do I fill all this time? It’s so strange. Time has expanded for writing, lately And talking with friends and family, A walk each day with my husband. I putter around the house. Cooking is almost fun Without a schedule, No place to go. I’m at peace. At home, Safe.
I’m trying out new (to me) forms of poetry. This one is a double etheree, the single of which has ten lines of one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten syllables. For multiple verses, the pattern may be reversed, as above — a double etheree.
April is National Poetry Writing Month, so I’ve committed to writing a new poem every day. The intention is that each poem will be a type of mini journal entry to document these days of sheltering in place while we weather this viral storm. I won’t post a poem each day, but you’ll likely see more poetry than other types of writing on this page for awhile.