Conversations Before Eight Poem by Marquita Lawson

My grandson is young; my grandson is old
Sounds like a contradiction 'til the story’s told

Why is your hair so thin?
Why are there long curly ones on your chin?
Why are your toenails getting thick?
Why do people have to get sick?

Why do some of your teeth come out?
Why do adults have to shout?
Why do your knees make noise?
Why don’t you play with toys?

Why do you watch tv? Why do we need money?
Why is the sky blue? Why can’t I stay with you?
Why can’t dogs talk? Why can’t fish walk?
What keeps us stuck to the earth? Why can’t I watch a birth?

Oh the wonderful questions he would ask!
What I’d give for that innocence again
But time takes it’s toll and he’s not small anymore
He’s grown into an 8 year old man.

I am big and can’t stand babies! Yes every one under 8 is one
I know everything there is to know and every game I’ve won.

I know all the answers to your questions
And can argue with the best
I can give you reasons for my behavior
And reasons why I don’t need rest.

But I wish that you could talk to me
One more time and sing
Those good old songs that would make me dance
And feel the joy they’d bring

I don’t want you in this place alone where it’s dark and cold at night
So let me hug you, Grandma here’s a kiss! Now you’ll sleep tight!
Well, I have to go now, Grandma, Momma’s calling me
But I’ll be back tomorrow, Just you wait and see.
Oh, to be loving as a child.