For the dVerse “in the light of other days” prompt, a request to share a memory, recent or past. This is a little of both, and the possum shown in the pictures here, that I took last night, may well have been the baby of an earlier season’s “poss”.
Poss has come visiting again.
Caught in the torchlight
she runs up a post
only to discover her way blocked.
Was there no roof here last time she visited?
Or has she forgotten?
Memory is a fickle friend,
hers and mine.
I recall her last visit,
a baby clinging to her back.
And my guilt at shouting at her,
shaking a broom to scare her,
before I saw the infant.
Now I look at her again,
that guilt returning
with the memory of that tiny clinging child.
And I forget the ravaged snow peas,
and stand back and let her pass.