Panic …. is just an inch away
its corruption spreading by contagion,
a chill within the morning mist
they (we) all must breathe, rising from the delta
When it comes:
It dilates pupils, narrows sight,
dries mouths, drains skins and blood-soaks cores
as it flushes through capillaries and flesh,
its rush feeds on mistrust, fuelling more unease
in and of each life in breaths of fear / thriving
in a fertile climate founded on their (our) past
Infecting people one by one
or sweeping regiments away
ruling of and by and for those people
who’ve found their (our) almost-abandoned
most-dearly-held and all-too-human values
wrenched and broken loose
Of their (our) flesh somehow carved
and taken freely without drawing blood;
Of the uprooted left behind / or blamed
by those whose role it was / to care for them.
Who knows what is right or wrong?
Or which side “we” are on?