The Howling Owl
Published in

The Howling Owl

PROSE POETRY

I’ll Meet You Where Tomorrow Begins

A Prose Poem

It’s a bright, foggy day on Half Moon Bay. Fifty of us are gathered here for a picnic.

Yet, you are alone. Alone, in the midst of a crowd.

It’s all too new, too fresh. Still too raw. You are independent, determined to move on.

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Paroma Sen

“Do not go gentle into that good night, but rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light.”