Seventeen

Your debut into this world
Seventeen springs ago
marked by my clumsy fall
from the hospital bed.
Perhaps bare facts must be laid
Without the sweetened additives
(it makes one fat, anyway)
of what to expect from this particular age.

Seventeen makes you invincible.
You assume you can pluck a star from Heaven
escape God's wrath (and notice, thereof)
and pin it in your hair.
Wishful thinking will often plague you, I'm afraid.
Seventeen makes you fervent
That cauldron of emotions sometimes shimmers and bubbles
And turns from lukewarm to Arctic cold.

As long as habits aren't forged
on intoxication of daredevilry
And your cupboard is stuffed with biscuits and tea,
As long as your fingers don't graze the
pages of Fifty Shades trilogy
And you have Murakami
Seventeen ought to be a breezy ride
as you travel the potholed road to adulthood.