Oh, Possum, Opossum

One year ago an opossum sighting, an opossum photo, and an opossum poem. A familiar chain reaction fueling a familiar runaway post. The photo never made it into the post, and the poem — albeit a preliminary push, unready for prime-time — was buried in a morass of words more focused on Carley, our Labrador retriever, than on the quirky critter that inspired the post.

So today I resurface the image and “Oh, Possum, Opossum”.

An Opossum O-poem

Oh, possum, opossum,
our springtime may have come;
narcissus nudging up,
snow melting into mud.

Perhaps prehensile tail,
opposable thumbs, and
dying art theatrics
have inured you to threats.

Or perhaps you're aware
that my Labrador's barks
are booming bluster not
cause for canine concern.

But beware, snouty snoop,
that winter's not finished,
and precocious parades
hint-hinting at hubris

may well invite frigid
flashbacks, hail, blizzards, and
temperate day delays
with bites bigger than barks
(Source: Opossum O'Clock)

Yes, a poem about an opossum, a seasonally precocious opossum. But also a gentle caution about winter and spring. About overzealous confidence in the nearing vernal equinox.

Not quite a meteorological metaphysics, but that last thought has been omnipresent lately. Hustling outdoor projects despite the unpredictability of March weather. Hustling but wary of hubris and overconfidence. Grateful for temperate times and lack of snow and ice. Hopeful when I review forecasts that more progress is possible, more than usual for this time of year. But also wary. Cautious. Unassuming.

An opossum reminder…