When I was eight
I ran barefoot
wild with joy
Spring finally here
through still frozen mud
Grace is eight
she dances barefoot
across the pathways
our house to Imma's
over frozen gravel
When I was eight
I rescued a baby mouse
on the way to school
Kept it in my sock in my desk
It didn't survive more than a day
Grace is eight
Survived a few days
but living with us was just too much
When I was eight
I traveled by plane
Canada to England
and by car and train
to visit family
Grace is eight
She traveled
by car, train, and plane
Malaysia to Canada
to visit family
When I was eight
my hair was short
shorn as required by school
a lice epidemic measure
dreaming of long hair again
Grace is eight
Her hair is long
Only ever been cut once
She cried
when I cut my hair short
When I was eight
I was outside more than in
Exploring, climbing, biking, playing
called home for meals
by the blast of a whislte
Grace is eight
Inside more than out
Reading, playing, climbing
Coaxed outside reluctantly
But loves it when we go
When I was eight
I read loads of books
Puzzled with codes
Wrote lots of stories
in my own made up language
Grace is eight
She reads loads of books
Puzzles over computer code
Resists writing them down
But loves to tell/draw stories
When I was eight
a home video was rare
TV's were small
Computers just making a debut
into family homes
Grace is eight
She can watch just about anything
any time, any where
(if she were allowed!)
Screen time is engrained in life
When I was eight
Computers were boring
Difficult. Mysterious.
I could make it type "hello"
and color the screen blue
Grace is eight
Computers are fun
A world of endless possibility
Complex. Familiar.
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