Euginia Tan, Singapore
hdb hornbills
their sightings caused
more of a ruckus than awe.
perched unceremoniously
on bamboo washing poles,
bombarding balconies,
beaked burglars devouring
caged sparrows whole.
their fuschia mantle
emanate a haughty air
in the heartlands,
staring down pedestrians
at stairwell nooks, chess table shelters,
overhead bridges, street lamps.
ferocious rebels in
their unfettered youth,
larger than the life
stipulated to them
on the face of a stamp
or a laminated image
on an old phone card.
the bald mynah
my niece’s brush
with cancer
left her head
with a coat of peach fuzz
soft as a kitten’s down.
she touches it tentatively,
eyes downcast
when she looks in the mirror.
at the park one day,
a bald mynah pecked at our feet,
its yellow head exposed,
bobbing like a life buoy,
joining the other mynahs
after its rounds, lost but found
in the swarm of black birds.
my niece’s eyes grow wide
at the odd mynah.
the afternoon sun
blazes on ruthlessly.
my niece throws her
denim round brimmed hat
into my lap, running
to the playground,
bald, young and free.
Euginia Tan is a Singaporean writer who writes poetry, creative non-fiction and plays. Her poetry collection, Phedra, was nominated for the Singapore Literature Prize (2018). She enjoys cross-pollinating art with multidisciplinary platforms and reviving stories. Contact her at eugtan@hotmail.com.
