This morning while I was working in the yard
I looked up and saw a mynah bird
Perched on a limb of my neighbor’s monkeypod
The way he sat there staring at me
Gave me the feeling that he was waiting
For me to teach him how to speak
‘Pretty bird,’ I said, the words all mynahs I’ve known say
To which he cocked his head and fluttered his wings
Then chirped a chirp nothing like my cue
For a moment I imagined him staring at me
Having the odd sense that I was waiting
For him to teach this old man how to fly
I raised my arms and flapped them
The way I used to do when I’d wonder
As a little kid if I could fly
What a magical tandem we two would make
Soaring together in the sky
Conversing while we performed our aerial acrobatics
Then he flew away not saying a word
And watching him go, I was reminded
Although a mynah might learn to speak, I would never fly
Lanning Lee 