Yellowhammer

I miss you. Bright streak of childhood hedgerows. Winged splash of sunlight in the twigs. I hardly see you anymore. ‘Little bit of bread and no cheese’ I can hear my dad saying it, over and over, whenever we spotted you. It drove me mad then. I’d do anything to hear it now. From either of you.

Well, you’ve made it onto the red list. It’s a dubious honour, and one I wish you’d never deserved. The first time I typed yellowhammer into Google it asked if I meant yellow hammer and showed me lots of plastic ones. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d been forgotten, but lots of us haven’t.

Scribble lark my grandma called you. And I always wondered what you wrote. It seemed so rude not to write back.

So looking forward to seeing you again,

With much love.