When I lived in Missouri, I was frequently assaulted by mosquitoes outside. In fact, the Fourth of July was a constant debate between enjoying the fireworks or preserving my ankles from turning into itchy lumps from the swarms that came at me in the summer evenings. However, one night, the mosquitoes were resourceful and made it into my bedroom. I wrote a poem in response to a Facebook post commenting on whether they were there to annoy us. My answer is a definite, yes that’s what they do best. I liked my creation well enough to post it here to commemorate that terrible evening many years ago. I am no Poe or Cummings (my favorite poets), but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
Once upon a summer’s night
While I rested, sleep in sight
I heard a sound, a sound I hate
The high pitched neeeeeee — a mosquito, this late
I flipped the light and saw it in flight
A slap, a clap, and smack of the hand
Rendered a body on the nightstand
Twice upon a summer’s night
While I rested, sleep in sight
I heard a sound, a sound I hate
The high pitched neeeeeee — a mosquito, this late
I flipped the light and saw it in flight
A slap, a clap, and smack of the hand
Rendered another body on the nightstand
Thrice upon a summer’s night
While I rested, sleep somewhat in sight
I heard a sound, a sound I hate
The high pitched neeeeeee — a mosquito, this late
I flipped the light and saw it in flight
A slap, a clap, and smack of the hand
Rendered a third body on the nightstand
Fourth time around, on this summer’s night
I hid under the covers, with nary a sight
Or a possible sound of the terrible neeeeeee
Except in my mind, a cloud of these fiends
Circling above, waiting to bite
But I was buried to avoid this fight
It made for one very long night