I can see you are senescing. Your crown has declined to less than mine. Your branches have faded back to expose bare wood and sprouts are shooting up and dying back.
Now you are drying out, frail and brittle. The hollow in your trunk grows daily. Your form in shrinking so rapidly cracks are forming on your exterior.
Thank you for protecting us from storms when we were young.
I forgive you for dropping branches on us when it was too windy for you to handle. I forgive you for shading our leaves and trying to crowd out our growth to maintain your dominance. I forgive you for lacking the stability to provide us with a safe place to set our roots, and for often being the most destabilizing element in our soil.
I see your leaves wilting. I see the shelf mushrooms at your base. I hear the resonant hollowness within you.
I wish you peace now. May your passing fertilize the soil of many generations to come. I will continue to grow stronger and make sure everyone learns your lessons.
May my evapotranspirated tears nourish the soil upon which you rest.
With love,
Young Tree
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