A stoic possum knocked on my door
With ragged tail and beaten ears
Moping on my door step
and sniffing my floor
I begged him to enter
and wipe off his tears.

Seated with Jack Daniels
and pillows in paw
We spoke politics, history
and avant-garde
While the moonlight enlightened
our speech of law
Our rhetorics widowed,
we dropped our cards.

When I reflect upon those
possum days
While my conscience was
still just a boy
I ponder about Mr. Possum
and his civil ways
By which he brought me
much glory and joy.

Through gruesome gravel
and thickening thorn
He spoke wisdom of
his outback quests
Narrated sagas from before I was born
My attentive wonders
became his audience and guests

Now, Mr. Possum is one with his tale
I stroll through my garden and sickening thorn
Shut up his shack and posted for sale
Such an awesome possum was never again born.