I’ve been bitten, blood
stolen by vampires
of the insect kingdom.  Red bumps like pox
pepper my legs in itchy pointillism.
I circle the bites with a delicate nail, scratching without slicing
skin.

Bug bites are the bane
of summer life, the duty
leveed by Mother
Nature to frolic in a muddy
creek with good music
and better friends,
a price I’d happily pay again.