Near the woods I sense their presence
They travel around like gypsy peasants
Like a cloud they rise up from the grass
And move together in a buzzing mass
Seeking shelter, sure to cover every nook and crack
Covered in Deet to ward off the attack
Like some story from a Hitchcock tale
This invasion of mosquitoes leaves me anemic and pale
8/16/11
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Those little things are horrible.good piece of poetry this