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He looks
At the collage
With glassy eyes
The pieces of the puzzle of him
The memories that have been stolen
Swept away 
Vanquished

An occasional glimmer
A spark of recognition
His dear mother
She had taught him three languages
Now he barely remembers one
The contours of her face make him smile
She had formed the poet
The professor
This lover of words
Sadly only fragments of him remain

Pictures of his sons
Long absent from his life
Their happy faces
A facade of happier times that could have been
Intelligence and expectations
his curse
his gift
They felt the weight of his words placed on their hearts
They never felt good enough
smart enough
not like him the great man
The reader and translator of superior minds
Honored
Knighted by kings
Celebrated
The pictures part of his collage
Proof that he was here
That his life was real
Not imagined
Others remember
Yet mercifully he forgets
The sadder parts

The picture of the car
The brother that was killed
The blame that was heaped on him
Him the unsuspecting child
The scars he carried through his days until now
He hopes to continue to remember how to forget
Not afraid of death
No longer lost in regret
The collage of him
Pictured moments
Displayed In no particular order
Words 
Images
A chair occupied
A mind denied
Still within
The poet trapped 
Continues life's ride



I wrote this poem about the famous Poet Edwin Honig after watching a 
documentary about him filmed by his cousin. "First Cousin Once Removed."

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