When my father came home

I asked him how his day was

Lines on his forehead emerged

Like crossroads

They lined the explanation of his sadness

My Grandmother always quoted her favorite book,

Life Is With People

Yet when her life ended

She left so many behind

My Grandmother was a history teacher

She erased crossroads on the forehead

Of every person she met

When she was diagnosed with cancer for the third time

All the pencils erasers in the world

Could not save her

Dear Grandma,

If you had more time

I could have asked you to teach me history,

But even time

Cannot rewrite yours