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OF ALL THE THINGS By Beverly Honkonen Your thick, black, sweaty hair. Your crooked, toothy grin. The nervous stutter of your voice. The smell of pencil lead and soap. The rough touch of hands well used. Of all the things Still tattooed in my memory Of you It is the slumped curve Of your shoulders and back As a paternal hand Pushed you the other way And you scurried from me, Carrying my life with you . . . Of all the things. -- My name is Beverly Honkonen and I recently found out that my family's name was originally spelled Hankanian several generations ago, but was changed when they immigrated to America from Russia. I think this makes me Armenian, and since discovering this information, I have been researching my new-found heritage. I am a high school English teacher in a suburb outside of Cleveland, Ohio. I am also a graduate student at Cleveland State University, enrolled in the Master's of English Literature Program, and have been writing poetry since I was a child.