Mother Opossum

By Lyn Aydelette © 1989

Issue: December, 1989

The opossum has a pouch
A pocket for her baby.
She doesn't holler "Ouch!"
Cause she knows she is a lady.

She isn't very pretty,
Her hair is sparse and thin.
But she is rather witty
Dealing with the likes of men.

She goes into a nervous feint
When frightened terribly much,
Looking like some helpless saint
Bare-tailed and stiff to touch.

With drawn lips exposing teeth keen
Tight-shut eyes, lying still -
Makes him feel just awfully mean,
He hadn't meant to kill.

There she lies - obviously dead
And her blind young crawls outside...
He reaches his hand to her head
And she bites him deep and wide.