Nov 302015

by Josh Lindenbaum


As he traversed the door’s frame,

naturally onto the step’s landing—closing the door behind him,

a baby possum

was lit by aggravated fluorescent lights.

Gently it backed into the grey, much-darker-than-its-coat cement wall—

about the size of a ball

(with a tail attached);

It has yet to learn how to play possum.


A wry grin overcomes his aged face,

but was soon followed by a symphony of empathy,

and his feet take up him up the steps,

never forgetting about the possum. . . ever!