Quieting The Hysteria

A slight buzzing, the traveling whisper, snicker
now loud.
Threats & lies, ignorance & mis-
directives circulate then
bring on tingling pins 'n needles to something
overwhelmed &
cut off.
Ostracism, the infected droplet?? —
it takes a single prick or
can't breathe that spit, it's
germy, this air.
How you fairing? O.K. Except for
outrage, fear?? —
Can't bring the thing home, a
hiss, gesture
to ward off
evil eyes . . .
Sure, here, propaganda has touched, entered
on occasion but
we have arms laid down like landscapes,
arms that surround, lift, hold fast,
arms who've weathered sorrow,
arms loving each other for the nature
of truth they contain,
These arms are naked strength. These arms are soft
These arms quieting hysteria are

                               in the thick of it
but pulse
nevertheless as
evidence apart.