Doug VAN HOOSER
If you wait for me by the gate
don’t be surprised when the flowers’ scent
lingers and lunar light whitens the night,
glitters the ripples on the lake.
A summer Wisconsin night
when bats slalom
through the dark, and voices
from across the water snuggle in your ear.
The echo in the kettle a leaf weaving in the air.
Humidity stitched to the heat.
The bonfire crackles like a brood of hens.
A Great Horned Owl gutturals the doorbell.
The gate complains and I try to explain.
This is where I belong,
a frog solo in an insect chorus.
Doug Van Hooser splits his time between southern Wisconsin, cycling and sculling, and Chicago where his play, “Hear Ye, Hear Ye”, will be produced this summer. His poetry has recently appeared in Poetry Quarterly, Sheila-Na-Gig, Split Rock Review, and Chariton Review. His fiction can be found in Red Earth Review, Bending Genres, and Flash Fiction Magazine.