IN MEMORY OF FRANK LANNI

The ink dries quickly on this small square page,
Words to the widow, memories of a friend.
The lab is silent and the lights are dim.
All images are vague, and words are drift.

The afterthought hangs deep on all of this.
How can you conjure up the thousand dreams
That make a man or carve in simple stone
A single smile that once belonged to him.

Jay Cohen

Perspectives in Biology and Medicine ?