Blackbird

by Harriet Whitaker

Take
The tangerine sun
Strolling past
Our Earth
To make the beak.

Take
The vibrant colour of a fox’s eye
Trudging through the freshly fallen leaves
To make the eyes.

Take
The soft touch of a flower
Bursting from its bud
For the feathers.

And finally take
The sharpest flint
That wanders with a cave man’s life
Side by side for centuries
For the mighty claws.