Blood transfusions
Every day and night,
Tell me, my friend,
How can this be right?
No request is made
No form to sign,
They just take your blood
Any place any time.
I was here writing a poem
And I had to stop,
A mosquito on the floor
And much blood it got.
It was flying low
Like my wife would say,
Too heavy with blood
To quickly get away.
I grabbed a napkin
And she tried to fly,
But that collection of blood
Cause her to die.
I said 'her'
Because that is what I was told,
Apparently, it is the female
That is this bold.
I don’t feel them bite
But my wife always does
But day and night
I could hear them buzz.
I understand too,
That they know blood types,
Apparently, there are some people
That they never bite.
You might be a blood donor
To a mosquito,
It is taking your blood
And you do not know.
They don’t need permission,
They just don’t care,
They might be tiny
But they have no fear.
Once they were nocturnal
But now, also operate in the day,
With things getting scarce
They too must find a way.
These transfusions
That are from us to them,
Causing us health challenges
And medical problems.
Lots of these technicians
Buzzing ‘round day and night,
Tell me the truth,
Can this be right?
Anesthesia for some
No anesthesia others,
Especially for my wife,
This sure is a bother.
That napkin was so bloody
No wonder it couldn’t fly,
Blood saves lives
But some mosquitoes die.
I shall now return
To the poem I was typing
But, please, I beg,
No more mosquitoes biting.
Stewart Russell © November 2019
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