Douglas Cole

Night Prayer

At the end of the cove

at the end of the world

there is a darkness

and a silence

that is pure home

here the spirit enters itself

saying this is where I come from

this is where I belong

the mind looking on at this

says bless me with your depth

your beauty and your grace


Talking to Yourself

you’re mind’s still a-chatter

with all those attachments

the grind of the engine

salary road that brought you here

I’m saying keep the fire going

even as the tide comes in

I’m not waiting for an answer

playing solitaire

like a gangster on the lam

a ghost breathing in the walls

what do you have to return to?

what’s really so hard?

you might think yeah

and lay down another card

my grandmother burned through decks

wearing off numbers and faces

going blind until the game was 

just a way to keep her hands busy.


Douglas Cole has published six collections of poetry, a novella, and The White Field, a novel. His work has appeared in several anthologies as well as The Chicago Quarterly Review, The Galway Review, Bitter Oleander, Louisiana Literature, and Slipstream. He has been nominated twice for a Pushcart and Best of the Net and received the Leslie Hunt Memorial Prize in Poetry. He lives and teaches in Seattle. His website is

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