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A sapling planted many summers ago
Half a century to be precise,
Has grown up to be a tree with it's boughs, branches, blossoms and all.
And as it grew,
It was caressed by the wind, scorched by the sun, drenched in the showers,

ruffled by the storms.
And it enjoyed every moment of it.

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And after so many years it has now stooped and withered a little
It's rich canopy of green have paled and thinned.
No, it was not a tree with fragrant flowers or succulent fruits.
Prized and to be fussed and cared.
Indeed, it was one of those non decrepit trees you will tend to ignore while it's there.
It will not leave a legacy when it's gone.
Or have it’s annals carved out in some marble plaque
Nay it would obliterate from this earth as if it was never there.

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So what have you achieved that we may remember you when you are gone?

asked the sprig.
Well for starters, said the tree
I don't think I need to be remembered at all
There's nothing exceptional about me
Other than the fact that I have stood quietly
And offered my shade to the weary traveler
And cradled the nestlings and provided them shelter.
And soaked up the toxic fumes that the world exhales

And have breathed out life so that you may all live.
But if someone still misses the empty space
When I am gone a few years from now,
Let it be known that here stood a tree
Who did not harm nobody.