In the small patch of forest
Beside the new
HDB they’re building,
There’s a family of
Dogs that seem
Somehow to survive.
I see one standing
Sentinel sniffing the air
And watching warily
The towers of concrete
That slowly encroach
On his home.
Last night they chased me.
Three wild dogs barking
At my heels
As I pedalled down
The footpath, heart
Pounding, trying to look calm.
They didn’t bite
Despite my fears
And my vulnerability.
Instead they left me wondering
Whether the world will be better
When they’re gone.
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