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A poem to bring some comfort

March

Each day the rules changed.
It was hard to keep up.
On Thursday I was embarrassed of Wednesday.
On Sunday I was shameful of Saturday.
Trivial tasks were suddenly of the greatest importance.
|I vacuumed that kitchen floor with such purpose,
and I had never gotten such satisfaction from selecting combinations of leftovers for meals.
I was truly proud.

I was suddenly thrust into a world in which my daughter was much more equipped and familiar.
I followed her lead.
As the physical perimeters closed tighter around us,
my heart expanded.
The . . .

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