Text Box: Therapy By Dekie Hicks Trekking across the landscape Observing the death of a bird, Noting the ways of the cattle, Touching a horse’s soft muzzle— These for me are therapy, Better than the shrink’s large couch, More effective than self-help books, Longer lasting than free love, Guaranteed, no harmful side effects

Motto: Writers Helping Writers

Rome Area Writers

Poetry

Dekie Hicks
Text Box: Perspective: October 31, 1998 By Dekie Hicks Three months of drought have drained the pond. It’s not the same place as it was back in June, when the bottom lay hidden and scary. Now I wander in the shallows, sinking. Now I have an opportunity to gain a new perspective and see what secrets may be told. So I slowly trek around and peer at all the naked places, seeking answers to questions: is it truly spooky? The heron tracks are sharply defined, telling a tale of methodical wading and coons have come in nocturnal wandering. Halfway around and here it’s quite dry. A desolate stretch waiting for water. So far my quest has produced nothing of note! No treasures, not even much litter— Only a golf ball and one piece of plywood! How strange it all is, this pond diminished by drought, its character and secrets exposed. Sometime our lives resemble this place. Droughts come along and dry up our ponds, bringing our bottoms up for inspection. There’s much more to us, as women and men, hiding our devils and demons; yes, much more to fear in the mud ourselves. So when a drought comes along in your life, acknowledge your mud; then put it away.