The “Unimportant”

Brown chestnut falling;
Catching the little glints,
Those sun-kissed ridges of a long-grown shell.

Passing aimlessly,
Unencumbered by the passing breeze,
Uncertain of direction and nonplussed by dissection.

If eaten then surrenders,
But if spared remembers,
Growing taller, stronger, a new tree of its kind.

So the brown chestnut falling might one day break through the night sky,
Or broken up deep down inside.
If it’s fodder then what glee,
To have saved a squirrel by helpful feed.
But if it grows to sky-tall tree,
No more helpful can it be.