Poem to My Empty Therapy Office – COVID-19
Vassilia Binensztok
Now I come by just to tendthe spiders. I clear the cobwebs,make way for new ones. Bamboo, lucky trees, I fill waterjust above the pebbles, grey and taupe,as the long legs settle back into the corners,having watched me sweep from behindbooks, between pages of feelingsand philosophy.
There are no stories being told herenow. No longing hearts sing to the wallsor the books or the spiders. The lightcomes through shuttered blinds,raining dots over the children’s games,peeking through remnants of laughterand tears, hugs and hope. The mending ofa thousand tiny cuts.
Not too long now. Not too long till the stories return,till the warmth returns, the sunbeaming full on. Not too long nowtill my heart connects to yours in thesame space, no screen between souls. Tales of both pain and power will soon fallon a hundred little ears, perchedon the white molding.
