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Grace Gilbert: “The Mosquito”

The Yellow House Poets

The Mosquito

by Grace Gilbert


Here comes again out nightly guest
The one whose sound is meant to disrupt our nights

That being whose spotted legs are long and thin
Whose aim are like the tip of a pin

In its mouth a needle, long and fierce
I haven’t seen no human flesh it cannot pierce

It dips in stealthily and sucks your blood
And stains your sheets with a messy flood from its tiny belly

It left a piece for every bite—it is a fever
A dangerous disease, hard to fight

To chase it
We fight to keep it off at home and school
Clean our surroundings and left no stagnant pool

Let’s keep fighting this unwelcome guest which bite with ease
One little prick then a big disease.


photo of Grace Gilbert, standing holding a copy of The Mosquito to read to the room

Grace Gilbert

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