Tail
lived with a possum
great laughing devil
dancing in the roof
he got
home
late
lots
as the pumpkin soup
snarled then grunted,
boiled over on the stove
he growled and swore
one night it lured him
tail descending first,
it hung
sullen
furred
curled
over
cold
hot
plates
he woke us with his clatter
not a dream
present
now
then
white-faced, Rob returned,
a torch beam and horror,
he whispered,
‘It’s
got
a
tail’
(Thanks for the
inspiring possum poetry, Mikaela Castledine. I take my own photos
for this project, but this photo was taken by my partner Dylan Jones, and spotted on
inaturalist by National Geographic for the 'photo of the day' on their website.
The possum was on the branch of the tree over our back fence, which we find hilarious, as we are often out creature image hunting in all sorts of odd places.)
here's an old possum of mine
ReplyDeleteBooranga Possum
so many moons have come
all vanished
the flag is coming down
past dusk
I hear you alright
must be warm over me
birds burrow up
nest in the night
but a possum
is a delver under
hear the stinky motor run
fur for a cover
you've made your own stairs
of close grown branches
you have the bunk above
make waking restless
settle down possum
what can there be to eat up there?
but we're all mendicants
I can't know what supper you've sung for
night comes like ink
through the rafters
that's when the blind
come into their own
all these hundred year posts
battens and bearers
possums and ants
have told to their chosen
generations remember
how the ghost in the fridge coughs
the termites down there
are time biding
orderly blinkered
the old fuel stove
had been the heaven
they'd gone prayerful round
strange allies of the scuttling fur
to bring the cottage down
soon the big show of stars
by which light we who look up see
that we are tiny and far
so far we'll never know
what from