Ouch

Mosquitoes ate my
orange, confused beasties
I might say.

In all the forest, they are kings.
Animals of all description at
their mercy, and I dare
to tread upon their shore.

What’s left of me are orange
peelings, and I
awaken to the truth

it’s that way with man, a
camouflage of hope
allowing winds to despair
and rob intentions.

Hold on, live.

© Richard L. Provencher