We are the most dangerous.

South America is the home of millions of bats!

I did yard work today and got was bitten by "a gazillion" black flies and mosquitoes.

A poem inspired by a shanty I lived in as a freshman. Was always engaged in mortal battle with those mosquitoes. That’s equitorial Africa for you!

Finding beauty in a spiderweb.

Mosquitoes bite use, making us squirm and itch. But how else would we enjoy the setting sun other than outside where the mosquitoes are?

A poem about a never-ending baseball game played by siblings.

Humorous poem about a very unpleasant camp.

Crush or drown mosquitoes.

A poem describing my hot days, and trying to cool off during the long sultry evenings.