Augustine summer
of fire and death.
I ascend
into the hollow of the wild
to feel safety and quietude,
but tomorrow hoards dread
like a cornucopia.
A fallen saint descends
down a subterranean river
to a vast ocean of darkness.
Depressive drums.
Fear
in the empty gaze
of a serpent.
But tonight,
I watch the stars
and listen to the hot world
settle.
Apollo’s there
battling the serpent in silence,
scorpions crushed beneath
his sandaled feet.
Writhing coils
strain against corded flesh
of the sun god at night.
His eyes flash yellow,
and I pray for any of the virtues
to carry me,
but especially
courage.
Nicholas Trandahl is a U.S. Army veteran, poet, newspaper journalist, and outdoorsman living in Wyoming with his wife and three daughters. He was the recipient of the 2019 Wyoming Writers Milestone Award and was nominated for the 2021 Pushcart Prize. He has published four collections of poetry and has appeared in various anthologies and literary journals.