Pandemic is a 4-letter word

I have wished upon a Facebook post
never to have known my family as I know them now

Arguing across a divide
where we forget we are related
for the principle of the thing

A 4-letter word called mask 
and vaxx 
and hoax
Who knew how far up 
a 6 inch q-tip could reach
We don’t even speak the same language anymore 
and Kin has become epithet

I want only to still believe that we, 
as a beings inhabiting this planet,
are salvageable, 
that we have the dust of the cosmos 
to guide our emergence 
and there is no worse corruption of the flesh than Self-ish

my shadowself now squelched smaller than a mustard seed
To constantly seek reassurances
thru the veil of my own confirmation bias.
That I am wrong about all this. 

I want to be wrong about all this.

Pandemic is a 4-letter word 
we toss out the window 
at the passing pick-up truck 
driven by our neighbor that 
called the HOA when we put out that 
Welcome to All sign in our yard. 
He might even be a cousin.

I am a 4-letter word.