One By Greg Huteson

                                                                             One

Could it be snubbing its near twin?
The same white undertail, the same 
crisp yellow beak and yellow feet
now skipping deftly after it

or hopping near its leeward side,
but cautiously as with a peer
or brother one does not care
to recognize in public spots

like this spot in the shoddy park
between the market and the school
that’s lazing in the haze and grit
of early spring, before the rains.

The Javan myna eyes its world
as split by mistrust as its twin,
its clone. But half again as bold,
it bounds ahead to claim scant seeds.

Greg Huteson’s poems have recently appeared in THINK, The Alabama Literary Review, The Honest Ulsterman, Better Than Starbucks, and Macqueen’s Quinterly, among other publications, and his chapbook, These Unblessed Days, will be published by Kelsay Books in fall 2022. He lives in Taiwan.