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.