The black bird 
outside my window
calls to his friends
or warns his enemies
with the hard caw
of self-righteousness,
interrupting
the tiny tweets
and the calming coos
of my meditative morning mates.
His intrusion
reminds me
of the shackles
and chains
and iron-clad judgments
my mind employs
to imprison others – 
even the black bird, himself.
How do I know
what lies beneath his caw?
Last time I checked,
I couldn’t speak bird.