An old black bird

hops among the cars

in the parking lot

one leg tucked in

a pirate without peg

maneuvering among the tires

and scrambling for scraps

it does the best it can

with that one good leg

yet even in its crippled state

its eyes still have that fire

that haughty look

so sure of itself

it knows it is still the smartest bird

with an eye toward mischief

and an attitude that smirks

of cockiness and conceit.