Scott Reid

Therapist's House

In late January when the sky drops gray
for days without end, the puddle
at the curb of Piper Street rises to my ankles.
The corner house at the bottom of the hill
drains water from the basement
through a hose attached to the outside wall.
There is a sump pump somewhere inside;
I hear the motor churning as I pass.
The garden hose pumps water
across the lawn to the walk
and down the wheelchair ramp.
Near her sliding office door
the pear trees are bare and the wisteria
clings to the rail without a leaf.
The house is dark now as I pass by in the rain;
the hose is pumping at full force.
This is the therapist's house,
where people come in troubled times
to tell their troubled dreams.

Healdsburg, 1995
Copyright 1995 by Scott Reid

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