Poem by Seth Howard


I Begin Again

Sunday mornings, bitterness
of coffee. Silence & the
skies grey, cloud laden. This presence
I feel in the half-light. Bluish
words that spill from my hands.
Night vacant reels under the
pain of this. A vision of deep
rooms. Sleep beneath the bodhi
tree on a Sunday. I walk the
streets of Paris in my dream.
The slow inception of waking
hours. I sit there & gather
my thoughts. Sensations that
pool in liquid light. & those
night fires that flare in alleys
across the city. I’m reborn in
a hall of mirrors. Awaken to
the sound of
water flowing through the room.


Seth Howard the author of two chapbooks: Out of the East, & Waters from a Well. His work has appeared in Otoliths, BlazeVOX [books], unarmed journal, Big Hammer, Oddball Magazine, Chronogram, Saudade, & Elephant. He graduated from the University of Connecticut, & studied abroad at Sophia University in Tokyo for three years. In his spare time, he enjoys the practice of Zazen, watches J-drama, & co-edits CAPSULE Magazine in New London where he lives.

Chad Parenteau is Associate Editor of Oddball Magazine.


One thought on “Poem by Seth Howard

  1. gloriavincent

    This poet is very profound, love the ‘dark’ sense of it… Yet there IS a lightness of being in the moment and seeing the BEAUTY of the moment… –gv


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