Where?

A cloud-making building,

Birds pecking at breadcrumbs beside a muddy swamp,

An artificial turf scratching underfoot

Bright lights light the streets

Fond childhood memories.

A singular shoe dangles from overhead wires, 

Yet something darker hangs –

A shadow.

"They're bats," a friend whispers to me.

"Eastern bent-wing bats, specifically. Almost extinct, or so I heard."

But don't bats live in dark caves,

Lurking in shadows with creatures like Dracula,

Why are they here? In our world.

Where is food, where is home?

Rock crevices filled with bolts, caves sealed, forests to clearings, 

Their world lost to ours, urbanised.

Where is my untainted childhood?

Polluted, polluted by the weight of the progress of this world.

Where is the place they can call home?

Displaced, desperate, where will they go now?