poems In this issue   BACK TO TOOKANY REVIEW HOME Edited by Kristine Grow & Sandee Mandel For more information about  writing workshops offered by the Cheltenham Township Adult School, contact: Cheltenham Township Adult School 1414 Panther Road Wyncote, PA 19095 Phone: 215-887-1720	Ruth Deming            Ruth Deming is a psychotherapist and poet. She invites readers to join her Writers Group the third Saturday of the month, 1 p.m., at Weinrich's Coffeeshop in Willow Grove, PA.   We Remember Our Husbands When They Die                                        When you were my husband, Millard,                    I tried to love you                    but failed                    there wasn't much to love                    other than your Chinese eyes the color of                    far-off rivers I never got to see                    or your soft long-fingered hands                    you balled into fists to pound the table                    when your billfold went missing                    I thought the art class might cure you                    from your misery and hate                    We hung up the charcoal nudes over my typewriter                    but you refused to believe they were any good                    maybe they looked too much like me                      when you died last week                    I went upstairs and took out the suit jacket                    you left here last summer                    examined it for traces of the man you grew into                    without me                    the pockets were empty                    the label read Bobzien's of                    Oklahoma City                    my fingers searched                    hungrily for any trace of you                    so I could love you:                    the mark of a pen                    a business card in your pocket                    I must content myself with a                    few white hairs fallen on your back                    I love you not enough to                    bury my cheek in your sleeve                    as I remember our wedding day                    forty years earlier                    your jacket, then, smaller, lighter in weight,                    encompassing a bright pink shirt -                    flamingo bright -                    hiding your smooth hairless chest.	"Never be afraid to sit awhile and think." Lorraine Hansberry
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