The Opossum

In honor of Halloween (and in lieu of a recipe), I present for your consideration, friends & enemies, something a little more...poetic.

Based on true, real-life events.

"The Opossum"

Once upon a midnight dreary, I returned to my car, weak and weary,
After teaching many a bored and drowsy first year boor—
The wind whipped ‘round the fallen leaves, dry and crinkling, from the eaves,
And though I’d parked in the Black Lot before, I felt a shudder to the core,
“You’re over-tired and under-paid,” I said, unlocking the car door,
“Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I recall, it was October in Athens, in the fall,
The kind you can’t help but adore.
Yet eagerly I yearned for Break, the six-week kind we Bobcats take,
when I could leave student essays behind, for reading of a simpler kind;
the kind of romantic, character-driven lore, the stories your brain cries out for—
mindless fluff, and nothing more.

As I left my job behind, a somber mood filled my mind, creeping, grasping
eerie fingers, lingered ‘til I could not ignore
the rapid beating of my heart. So I sat at a red light repeating,
“You’re over-tired and under-paid,” pushing the gas to the floor,
“Only this and nothing more.”

Pulling into my apartment’s lot, I gathered all the courage I got
“Silly,” said I, “you’re far too old for megrims anymore;
it’s just this creepy season that has relieved you of your reason
and has your imagination teasin’” – here I opened the car door –
“Only this and nothing more.”

Toward my apartment I started walking, though my fears continued stalking
each step I took along the path to my front door.
Suddenly I heard a rustling, as if something quietly bustling
stealthily hustling, quickly muscling through the bushes
under the window of the apartment next door—
halting my approach to my apartment door.

The moon from behind diaphanous clouds, silvery streaks like burial shrouds,
shone down upon the path to my apartment door
and revealed to me the noise’s source, that which stopped me on my course,
my fear returning in full force— an opossum crouched at my apartment door!
Crouched upon the brick-lined stoop in front of my apartment door,
Crouched, and staring, and nothing more.

This ghostly animal beguiling my fearful fancy into smiling
by the spooked and panicked countenance it wore,
“Though your fur be pale and matted, thou,” I said, “art sure not rabid;
creeping, twitching marsupial wandering on paws of four—
get thee off the stoop in front of my apartment door!”
He just crouched and stared, and nothing more.
Then. me thought, the shadows grew denser, the muscles in my shoulders tenser,
and my hopes for safe passage plummeted to the floor.
“Wretch” I cried, “what Devil lent thee – by what demons hath he sent thee
courage – courage to remain there sitting, staring at the stoop of my front door?
Let me pass without your caring and enter through my door.
He just crouched and stared, and nothing more.

“Opossum!” said I, “thing of evil! – Opossum still, if rat or devil! –
Get thee back into the bushes and away from my front door!
Leave no droppings as a token of the peace of mine you’ve broken
and the curses I have spoken – quit the stoop before my door!
Take thy creepy tail from out my heart and take they form away from my door!”
He just crouched and stared, and nothing more.

And the opossum, never quitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
on the brick-lined stoop just before my apartment door;
and his red eyes have the seeming of a demon who is dreaming
and the porch light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor
and my soul from out that shadow that is crouching on the floor
shall be lifted – nevermore!