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On Incarceration
Now shackled by government edict.
Banned from life’s open air,
No more a future to predict,
No more a life I can share.
Sent to my room to protect me,
Locked in my cage like a bird,
Yesterday only a memory,
Tomorrow has now been deferred.
Those plans I had for tomorrow,
Expectations I’d promised to meet,
Turned into today’s plangent sorrow
As into my shell I retreat.
As Touch becomes a scabrous word,
And washing hands a must,
My world’s become absurd,
As I’ve become nonplussed.
Roland's Ragbag 
Beautiful poem but traumatic times. You can of course walk your
garden, tend your flowers and bushes and talk to people – at a distance.
However, the hard thing is” As Touch becomes a scabrous word”.
How right you are.
Oh, and write, to friends, family and your poetry.
Miriam
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Thank you, Miriam. Wise words.
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