Ode On My Seventeenth 17 is as a message in a bottle from the farthest seas with words as dearer and shivering as of Anne's to kitty addressing how hard is it to grow old but harder to save kalon of my child in my four chambered attic; a near one who ages turns ageless beneath soil; love can be an unsung song like mother's intellect, father's inhibitions; kindness is rarest and so richest. The message now falls with no thud, gravity pulls into its deepest, leaving no footprints,
