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.