The last tree in my street was axed today,
In a matter of minutes, she was brought to the ground.
By an electric saw that ripped across her broad trunk,
The tree that saw me through my childhood breathed it's last.
The tree that welcomed me 16 years ago into this quaint neighborhood,
Was a royal Gulmohar that bloomed every season.
A carpet of red draped the roads,
Even as families of birds perched above.
The morning melody of their chirps
Will only be a thing of the forgotten past.
She lived older than I will ever live,
And humbly gave herself as a home
To myriad creatures aplenty
But she also gave shelter to a little girl's dream,
Even as I sat underneath her broad trunk with a million thoughts agleam.
In fond memory of the Gulmohar trees that were successively put down over the years.
