Refugee

Yesterday, my neighbor told me

that bulldozers had unleashed bandicoots on our street.

They strutted fearlessly on the sidewalk, she said

like fashion models.

Even the feral cats fled.

We frowned at the tall-walled construction site

willing the skeletal cement limbs

and puppet-angled cranes moving inside

to disappear…poof!

or at least

turn to ashes under our fiery third-eye gaze

giving us back its erstwhile wildness

The rodent appeared. Tentative. Sniffing.

Hugging the section where sidewalk met street.

“Shoo,” we cried.

Stamping our feet like warriors before a fight.

Her nostrils flared. Her tail quivered.

She didn’t move.

There she was. A refugee

who had lost her home to rubble and smoke.

Hated by her new neighbors

who were forced to take her in.