Beneath the moon I saw
the long naked tail of a possum.
It turned to me,
bared the teeth lining its pointed gray snout,
and loudly hissed
before disappearing into the nearest evergreen shrub.
My dogs barked,
short, panting breaths,
hearts racing, pulling,
ready to give chase, but I held them back,
tightening my grip on their black nylon leashes,
goosebumps dotting my arms.
One dog strained with all her might
towards the bush
where the possum had last been seen.
The other idiotically wrapped his leash
around my legs.
I cursed at them and tried to untangle myself.
I sighed and looked up at Jupiter,
unusually bright in the sky that night.
I was not in control,
not in control of anything at all.
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