Cut down

The tree was felled finally
Tortuously, inch by inch
Quarter of a century is not a long stretch of time, maybe
For trees
But for me
A precious period

A random seed that grew on its own
Watered by my children
And climbed on by my grandchildren
when strong and sturdy
The thick clusters rustling in the afternoon sun
Hiding the few fruits in the upper branches

O mango tree
I miss you