JENA WOODHOUSE

Poem—'Furry Intruders'

Possums can flatten themselves
into schnitzels, furry fillets
squeezing through doors or windows
even slightly ajar, and segue
down chimneys: alien spooks,
Houdinis intruding with brazen intent,
debonair, spruce, with unabashed mien
reinventing themselves as they were –
seasoned offenders with insolent ways,
ransackers of larders who,
shooed with a broom, become wily,
feigning an artful retreat,
biding their time in the darkness outside,
in the cedar’s penumbra,
innocent-eyed, avaricious
when night falls for goodies within.

Having once savoured the fruits
of success, they never forget
that auspicious address.