poem

Eclipse in a Dish

/ boz bozeman / 1 Comment

I failed to get us eclipse glasses. Honestly I didn’t even think about it. We were so caught up in Uconn’s championship run and celebrating our birthdays that it didn’t occur to me to pick up glasses.

I had a solution. Years ago, I was washing dishes during a partial eclipse, and I saw the reflection of the sun in the water. Realizing I could watch the reflection safely, I filled a small dish with water and placed it on the garden window. I was able to “watch” it indirectly. One cool effect is that the depth of water means a layered image: the top image is nearly too bright to look at, but the refracted ones are like shadows, and give a really good sense of the shape of the sun as it is obscured.

This picture is as close as I could get to capturing the effect. The reflection allowed us to enjoy the partial eclipse here, but I’m sure didn’t compare to the total with appropriate lenses.

Here’s the poem I wrote years ago when I discovered this eclipse watching cheat code:

I watch the eclipse 
In a dish 
In the garden window. 

Even reflected 
The light stings my eyes. 

The water is still,  
Deep enough 
To give shape to the sun. 

I tap the rim and the water tilts 
Tipping side to side. 
The sun in a cradle 
Rocking, rippling, warped.

Leap Day

/ boz bozeman / 7 Comments

Yesterday was leap day. I spent it taking care of my wife, who is recovering from a hip replacement. Her situation reminds me of the transition from Winter to Spring. Winter would be her painful determination to keep going despite the physical obstacles she was facing. Spring has just begun: the healing and slow emergence into pain free movement after surgery. 

Sit still on leap day
And heal like the quiet earth
Growth comes again soon

Frost Heaves

/ boz bozeman / Leave a comment 

Weather changes the most familiar paths: 
Snow buries landmark stones. 
Deep puddles block the trail 
From boots and paws. 
Fallen trees bar the way. 

Today the ground  
Crumbles under my step 
And my foot is suspended 
Above the cracking path 

I’m surprised, 
But it’s not the first time 
I've stepped on a frost heave. 

For a moment I enjoy 
Pretending that the Earth is giving way, 
Opening 
And I will fall through 
And fall 
And fall  
Into an unimagined abyss.  

My eyes open. 
I'm standing on the trail 
My right foot is crooked, 
But cupped by the sustaining earth. 

Eyeing the ground. 
I seek out more frost heaves, 
Step on them lightly 
To feel the crust breaking 

Reliving the perilous moment 
When everything below fell away.

Early Spring Haiku

/ boz bozeman / 7 Comments

Not really feeling like spring today in Southern New England! Pretty good sized snowstorm passing through. But I liked the image that these kigo words gave me: Shallow Spring, bush warblers and returning cold.

I tried to work today’s weather in, but it couldn’t happen. The image I chose is one that I have been noticing for several weeks: flocks of small birds in bushes by the trail. They’re a fun and refreshing sight. 


Shallow Spring invites
bush warblers; returning cold
can't diminish songs.

Thanks as always to #tankatuesday

A challenge from nature and poetry

/ boz bozeman / 6 Comments

I love a challenge but this one was initially daunting. At tankatuesday, we were given a mission to write a bussokusekika, a Japanese form that is generally found at a specific Buddhist temple. It was challenging enough to write 3 verses with a 575777 syllable count, but I also wanted to honor its spiritual roots.

Luckily I had just taken a hike that provided an perfect image. Nature being a place of great spirit, I thought that this was fitting. 

I stop on the path
That ice has taken over 
A giant puddle
That stretches into the woods
And covers the trail forward
Ahead thin ice blocks the way

These woods are our home.
The right of the path slopes up
Boundary to ice
Water cannot puddle there.
I gaze through tangled branches 
I look for a way through trees

Anna cracks through ice
She shakes a wet paw and turns
Following my steps
I find a path through branches
A way through brush sticks and stones 
A soft trail through leaves and loam.

Deep Winter Haiku

/ boz bozeman / 7 Comments

My haiku for this challenge uses the Kigo words “evergreens” and “bare trees”. I find myself enraptured by what is revealed by the bareness of winter. I especially love how the contour of hills is shown because we can see through the trees. I am caught by the jagged, long peaks that are exposed in this season. 


Snow reveals all things:
Burdened evergreens bending 
Bare trees branches weave.

Winter Hills

/ boz bozeman / 13 Comments

The most time I spend on the golf course is during winter. The local public course is open for recreation, so when it snows, the cross-country skis and sleds come out. I like to snowshoe. So the other day Anna and I had a little adventure. The happy screams of distant children blanketed the air. It snowed a little while I was shoeing, so it was a perfect winter moment. Four cold crows flew over, their black forms stark against the slate sky and white powder.

Snowy winter freeze
Winter hills contrast deep snow
Defining bare trees.

The tankatuesday challenge was a Haibun, which contains a prose paragraph and a haiku. My kigo words for winter were “freeze”, “winter hills” and “cold crow.”

Winter Haiku

/ boz bozeman / 8 Comments

Went for a good old haiku for this weeks tankatuesday.

I button my coat
Windy winter weather blows
Snowy meadow walk

I wish! I usually enjoy the differences in the seasons, but I am not fond of the grey, cold, windy winter we are having. I have always felt if it is going to be cold there may as well be snow!