Refugees

by David M. Harris

Early in my career in Tennessee,

I came back with the dog and said,

“I think I saw an armadillo.”

My fiancee, well versed in local fauna,

assured me there were no armadillos

in Tennessee. Now I discuss

with the lawn guy how to keep them

from digging up the lawn.

On a morning walk, three or four

dogs later, we found a corpse,

mostly intact but for scraps of armor

scattered on the road. A few days later,

the armor hollowed out. Fleeing the oppression

of Texas heat, hoping only for safety

and freedom, this one found a pickup.



Refugees are sometimes not

greeted with joy. They can be

invaders in the lawn, like armadillos,

or good neighbors, like moose,

leaving their ancient homes for freedom

and safety in a world of change.

Individuals strike out from home

easily, but populations resist

large motions; too much mass

to shift without great impulse. Let them not

be greeted with a pickup.