a nice ending

there are days that
I miss my therapist, not having
talked with her in some
time now.
she probably wonders how i'm
doing,
what i'm up to, if I've finished
all the books
I told her about.
the friends who helped
me out.
I miss her comfy couch,
the window
to the street below.
her clock keeping time
on the fifty minute sessions.
what started out like a greek
tragedy took a nice
turn at some point. a light
went on.
and we would laugh.
it became easy
and clear.
we would nod in agreement,
both at last on the same
page,
at the end of a book, ready
for the shelf.
she knew the ending long before
I did.
but she waited patiently
for me
to read on, to go slow
and catch up,
to turn one page
at a time until I got there.