David Anson Lee
Pocket Sonnet
I keep a small grief in my shirt pocket:
its edges soft as folded laundry,
a coin-size bruise that remembers names.
Rain runs down the window like old film;
I rub it and hear a hinge unstick,
someone laughing in a distant stairwell.
The bruise teaches me the cost of holding,
and how brightness arrives unsummoned.
At night I lay it on the bedside table
beside a book with no title.
Morning forgets it for an hour,
then finds the dent in my palm again:
an object refusing to vanish,
a polite insistence on being loved.
Bio
David Anson Lee is a physician and poet from South Dakota, living in Texas. His work explores brevity, memory, and the quiet intensity of everyday life, often drawing on personal, philosophical, and natural imagery. His poems have appeared in Right Hand Pointing, Unbroken Journal, The Scarred Tree, Braided Way, and Eunoia Review. He writes both free-verse and formal poetry, with a focus on clarity, compressed emotion, and resonant imagery.