"Bronc's War"
Bill’s Bite
a breeze, a buzz, a fleeting sigh
a tiny whisper flits on by
a life so small, yet bold and free
it weaves through dark like poetry
in moonlit rooms, where shadows play
it flirts with dusk, then slips away
you bite and bleed us slow
a paradox, this dance we know
mosquito, night’s whispering thief
in stillness you come, a mischievous leaf
with wings like secrets, and hunger that calls
you dance in the air as darkness falls
is it the sweetness of my skin
or the warmth of a body lived in?
With delicate touch, you bite, you flee
a fleeting connection, just you and me
This is the next in a cycle of poems about Bill my grandad (in-law). We don't know when he caught malaria so this lighter poem is intended to bring some relief to the cycle before the final poem sees Bill being moved to a camp in Poland.