Poem to my empty therapy office – Covid-19

written by: Vassilia Binensztok

Now I come by just to tend 
the spiders. I clear the cobwebs, 
make way for new ones. 
Bamboo, lucky trees, I fill water 
just above the pebbles, grey and taupe, 
as the long legs settle back into the corners, 
having watched me sweep from behind 
books, between pages of feelings 
and philosophy.

There are no stories being told here 
now. No longing hearts sing to the walls
or the books or the spiders.  The light 
comes through shuttered blinds, 
raining dots over the children’s games, 
peeking through remnants of laughter 
and tears, hugs and hope.  The mending of 
a thousand tiny cuts. 

Not too long now. 
Not too long till the stories return, 
till the warmth returns, the sun 
beaming full on.  Not too long now 
till my heart connects to yours in the 
same space, no screen between souls. 
Tales of both pain and power will soon fall 
on a hundred little ears, perched 
on the white molding.