Airy child is mom’s child in the garden
Who does not hear knock on window
And you the anyreader cannot see him
In a garden ,who has grown and gone.
Our book is piling to read a goodread,
Our mom silence gone from knocking.
Child and mom are things of pure air
And soon enough we will be pure air.
(Referring to R.L.Stevenson’s poem To Anyreader)