Elegy for a Lost Breath

By David Anson Lee

The air once full now slips away unseen,

Each inhalation measured, frail, and slight.

We mourn the quiet life that might have been.

Your chest rises slow, a silver screen,

Projected shadows flicker in the night.

The air once full now slips away unseen.

I trace your breaths, the in-between,

A rhythm failing, fading from the light.

We mourn the quiet life that might have been.

Outside, the world turns emerald, clean,

Yet here, the struggle stakes its right.

The air once full now slips away unseen.

Memories gather where your lungs have been,

Soft whispers of your once-brilliant fight.

We mourn the quiet life that might have been.

So hold this moment, fragile, lean,

And know the soul moves past the blight.

The air once full now slips away unseen;

We mourn the quiet life that might have been.

_______________________________________

David Anson Lee is a physician and poet based in Texas, whose work weaves together medicine, philosophy, and Native American heritage. Born on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, he explores identity, memory, mortality, and the human condition through a lens shaped by both clinical practice and philosophical inquiry. His poetry has appeared in journals including Right Hand Pointing, Unbroken Journal, The Scarred Tree, and Braided Way.