Doug Van Hooser

Kettle Moraine Lake

Dawn stretches over the plateau curling light through the oak, cherry, and hickory trees to the simmering ripples on the glacial formed lake. The damp and dark take a deep breath and leave over the western ridge. Yesterday has marched out the front door disgruntled with its accomplishments. Today is eager but sits through the woodpecker’s announcements. Squirrels leap tree to tree, branches reach out to them. A hummingbird darts like one thought to another. The joy of nectar beckons. A red burst, a cardinal, whistles for its mate. The breeze mixes with the sun’s heat. A recipe for temptation. Ask the wild turkeys lost in their chatter, sauntering across the road. A blue jay skips from one tree to another, inspecting from a distance. Lunaria, purple with bloom, act like they belong everywhere. The silver dollar seeds, yet to come, to be spent in the fall. A bullfrog insists on telling his story, hoping a special someone will listen. Sunfish lollygag in the warm shallows, patient for a damselfly skimming the surface to touch down.

Doug Van Hooser

Doug Van Hooser

Hip Boots

No need to repeat mistakes. Their ghosts sit behind me, lay next to me in bed, hand me tissues. The past unable to pass gnaws at my wires, causes sparks, flickering images, short-term outages. A person, an event, something I said or should have said become loud colors, shout remember me. Whispers I can’t elude or elucidate echo in my mind’s cavern. Water rushes over the path of slick stones I trek. Unable to decide which side of the river to fish from I stand in the river and shiver as the water rises over my knees, above my waist, surrounds my chest where the heart’s metronome thumps. Today’s lyrics give way to the chorus I can’t escape.