A Poem by Agnes Vojta
Jane stares at the twelve-pointed stars
on the waiting room carpet.
She has memorized the pattern.
The therapist runs always late.
The therapist cannot tell Jane
how to go back to joy
or what to do with her future.
Jane does not expect her to.
The therapist tells Jane to imagine
a container to put her problems in.
Jane imagines a woven basket with a lid
that sits on the shelf of her window seat.
Jane can see the basket,
but her thoughts refuse to go inside.
They circle inside her head and gather
at the bottom of her stomach.
They feel heavy.
Agnes Vojta grew up in Germany and now lives in Rolla, Missouri where she teaches physics at Missouri S&T and hikes the Ozarks. She is the author of Porous Land (Spartan Press, 2019) and The Eden of Perhaps (Spartan Press, 2020), and her poems have appeared in a variety of magazines.