Almond Eyes

Grandma with the almond eyes Needed a seat on the metro On a warm Wednesday Afternoon- I stood up and guided Her to mine As she smiled at me With whatever was left Of her eighty-eight Year old teeth And although I am Usually the last one in line When it comes to Doing what’s right- I still felt like I owed her a lot. This grandma could be The cute little Baby girl whose Two toothed smile And big brown eyes Caused my Great grand parents to Decide they wanted To have a child. She could be The woman who Made the vase That was set on A table in a cafe And triggered a conversation Between my parents On their first Date. Or her husband could be The man who left that Banana peel on The floor somewhere In Rainy Beirut During the 1970’s Hence causing my Dad to slip into Mother’s arms. She could be The person who Sold my father the Rose he gave mother On Valentine’s Day. She could be The uttermost reason For my existence. Or she could be some Random old lady- I still gave her my seat anyway.